


Carry On

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Crossdressing, Kleptomania, M/M, Past Louis/Zayn, Pining, Sex, Sexual Content, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:38:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, all curly haired and bright eyed and so <i>so</i> pretty, is the culprit of his misfortunes. And an hour ago he had been fantasizing about him. Louis has to stop falling for these kinds of people.</p><p>
  <i>Louis and Harry are teachers. Louis kind of thinks Harry's okay for a kleptomaniac.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was inspired because of a post I saw on Tumblr (which is usually how inspiration comes to me...) In parts, this story might be a little ridiculous :D But there will be serious parts to it, I promise! And please leave comments/kudos/bookmarks, I've worked hard on this for the last month so I would really appreciate it! Plus I love hearing what you think :) But please be nice! I have a fragile heart :) Well, enjoy!

**One**

“So.” He waggles his eyebrows. “You got any drugs in your bag, kid?”

The boy in question (a Year 8 who is so small that he comes up to Louis’ stomach, bless the little guy) presses the bag to his chest and vigorously shakes his head back and forth.

Louis sinks down to the kid’s height, hands on his knees as he locks eyes with him. He’s aware that he’s making the younger boy squirm; this only makes it ten times more fun.

“Are you sure?” he asks, glancing to the blue zip on the boy’s bag. “Because if you did I’ll give you an A for that shit homework you submitted last week.”

The boy’s brown eyes grow wide at that. Possibly from shock. Or maybe he’s conceding to Louis’ bribery. “You’re a teacher; you’re not supposed to swear!” Or not.

Louis snorts at this. He’s been told this twice already today. It’s not going to make him stop. Plus, people seem to forget what age he is. He’s twenty four, in fact, he’s a _hot_ twenty four year old (if he does say so himself) and he doesn’t really care about ‘setting an example’ for the kids. Sooner or later, their language will be affected like him. And they’ll thank him for an extensive vocabulary some day.

At least his classes are never boring.

“I’m not an old man like a lot of the teachers here. And I am being serious about the dope thing.” He waits again but the Year 8 is already shaking his head at him and running in the opposite direction.

_Seriously. Are these kids even teenagers?_

Louis grumbles something inaudible underneath his breath. He’s been itching all day for something. It’s usually not drugs; in fact, he’s never been one to use them. The real reason behind odd behaviour is this: he’s bored. A school should be positively _reeking_ with gossip, but he’s not heard a peep from any of the little runts that squander the halls. It’s all the same, day in and day out. It’s exhausting.

He desperately wants this place to liven the fuck up before he _does_ grow old.

Louis takes a peek at his watch; he’s got an hour until his Practical Workshop class with the Year 11’s. They’ll be learning how to use movement in theatre, which basically involves throwing everyone about like cavemen. Sadly, that’s possibly the most fun he’ll have all day.

Louis is aimlessly wandering the halls, receiving greetings from the kids as he walks by. He decides last minute to go visit Zayn (otherwise known as best friend for life or BFFL for short – and yes, they really do call each other that) and see whether he can pick up his tiresome mood.

Zayn’s the school’s secretary, which kind of fits with his personality; considering how much he tries to convince everyone that he is _the ‘_ sexy secretary’ out of everyone’s dreams. He’s always been a bit, well, weird.

Zayn notices him as soon as he steps through his small office door.

“Here for a quick fuck, Lou?” Zayn’s currently bent over, rummaging in one of the bottom cabinets of the drawers for something. Louis can appreciate the sight (especially the jeans that Zayn’s wearing – _perfect_ fit) but he doesn’t like Zayn like that. Or at least, he hasn’t for a while.

Louis collapses on one of the office chairs and starts swinging around in circles.

“You wish.” He sticks out his tongue, teasingly, before glancing back down at the sheets and sheets of paper on Zayn’s desk. They’re all recipes. “Did Niall give you this?”

Niall is probably blowing up his apartment right now, or that’s what comes to mind. He’s supposed to be at work today with them – and all the teachers’ who are not technically minded are having a panic attack because of this – but he decided to ‘fake’ sick. Louis had assumed they had grown out of that stage.

Zayn nods and suddenly stands up straight, waltzing his way over to Louis and his desk.

There’s a slight sign of Zayn’s gallivanting from the night before on his body. First, the blatant love bite on his neck, and second, the state of his clothes that proves they were from the night before. We won’t go into detail about what all of that means. Louis would rather leave that well alone.

“We’re going to make a cake,” Zayn proclaims, “Although I’m not sure what kind yet. Niall’s offered to help.”

_Bad idea, **really** bad idea. Abort, Abort. _

Louis grins. “Oh? Is it for me? You shouldn’t have.”  He picks up one of the recipes, a chocolate cake, it sounds to die for.

Zayn hits him fondly on his shoulder. “No, it’s not for you. It’s for the new music teacher.”

Louis perks up at this. _New,_ he thinks, _finally there’s something new!_ He can’t quite remember when exactly the old music teacher left, but he’s excited for a bit of change around here. Even if the music teacher ends up being some oldie, change is good.

He knows what he wants to make now, he is going to greet the new teacher his way. Besides, you haven’t been introduced to the school until you’ve met Louis Tomlinson.

“I’ll help too! I have an excellent idea of what to write on it,” he rubs his hands together, already wanting to leave the school and get started on his master plan.

*****

_Welcome, oldie, to our fantastic ~~crap~~ school. _

“I can’t believe you wrote that on there. What if he gets offended?” Niall’s nose is crinkled up in laughter; he sort of looks like a bunny rabbit like that.

Louis’ holding the cake in its wrapping, keeping it steady as he walks towards Music Room 1. He feels like he’s back at Uni, going around each dorm room and meeting new people. It’s highly exciting.

Louis shakes his head at Niall’s comment. “If he does get offended then he has no sense of humour.”

But, really. Louis does hope the guy has a funny bone. He hopes the guy (or girl, mind you) is a comedian.

Niall sniffs in some sort of approval in response. It turns out he is actually ill. His nose is bright red (bunny) and he keeps on rubbing at his eyes, as if he’s trying hard to stay awake. Zayn is right next door to him, running a hand through his hair.

“I hope it tastes alright,” Zayn says.

Louis rolls his eyes. “For the millionth time, it’s fine, Zayn.”

“The last time you said that we nearly gave someone food poisoning.”

“Well, that wasn’t my fault. And it’s not like this guy is a food critic, god.”

They’re standing outside of Music Room 1, and it seems the new teacher has gone so far as to decorate the door. It is common knowledge that no one’s supposed to do that, teacher or student, because it is _vandalism._ It seems the new teacher hasn’t been given the low-down.

The teachers’ name is scribbled in big, goofy handwriting on the door. A little person is next to it with hair that kind of looks like a cross between a broccoli and an afro, carrying a guitar in one hand and a saxophone in the other. The words: ‘ _Hi, Harry Styles here, come on in!’_ are written in the same odd scrawl.

Louis squints at it. “What’s up with that?”

He doesn’t get an answer from his two friends, as they don’t bother to give it. Zayn’s already knocking on the door. Louis’ waiting to hear a gravelly voice from the other side, a slower stomp to the door. That is… _not_ what happens.

“Do the musical knock!” A voice loud and without a doubt not old comes from the other side. Louis freezes in his tracks.

He turns his body to face Zayn; his friend just raises his eyebrows at him.

Louis’ not exactly sure what the ‘musical knock’ is, but whatever it is, it’s really lame. He’s still a bit flabbergasted over the fact that the teacher sitting in that room is not old. If he were to guess his age, he would suppose he were the same age as he was. Although, he hasn’t seen his face. If his face is as sweet as his voice then Louis will accept the embarrassment of their chocolate cake.

“We’re not students, you know!” Louis responds, not feeling like going along with this new teacher.

There’s a shuffle to the door soon after, the unlocking of a bolt, and the door swings open.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Next time you have to knock properly though, yeah?”

For the last two years that Louis has worked here, he has always been one of the youngest. He’s kind of taken pride in this fact, because not only that, he’s also gorgeous.

And so, apparently, is Harry Styles.

Louis was right to assume that his voice would match his looks. He does look pleasantly sweet, all dimples and large smiling green eyes. He’s tall, though, and that makes Louis feel so very small. And he’s not sure whether he likes that or not. Harry’s also got very unruly chocolate curls, and the picture on his door makes more sense because of this.

It’s been around a few minutes since the door opened. Louis’ positive he’s been ogling Harry the whole time. He only snaps back out of it when Niall (rudely) stamps down on his foot, bringing out a loud and very obvious yelp.

“Um, hi. We came to say hello…” Louis trails off, failing to form a cohesive sentence in his mind. He finally manages, though. “I’m the Drama teacher here, my name’s Louis Tomlinson…and these are my merry men, Gay and Gayer.”

Niall frowns at this, exclaiming, “Hey!” in an obvious offended manner.

Niall’s not even that way inclined, but that’s what he gets for hurting Louis’ poor foot.

“Who’s Gayer?” Zayn asks, muttering to himself.

Louis notices that Harry looks quite amused. He applauds himself for his success.

Harry chuckles at this and extends a hand out to him – no, to them. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you three from some of the teachers. They told me to go to the blond one – Niall right? – if I needed help with tech and to go to Zayn for any admin difficulties...I suppose that’s you right?” He glances over at Zayn, who seems to perk up at Harry’s attention.

Zayn nods like a happy puppy, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “Yah, that’s me.”

Louis’ sure that he’ll start growling at Zayn if he opens his mouth. He saw Harry first.

Harry doesn’t continue his sentence there, just stares down at his brown leathered boots.

“And me?” Louis inquires, trying to meet this boy’s green eyes once again. “What about me?”

Harry tilts his head and suddenly he’s properly looking at him, full on. Louis feels like he’s been paralyzed.

“Oh,” he drawls out, “They told me to stay away from you.”

He doesn’t understand why, but this new teacher seems to be more than he first thought (actually he does know why, he’s fit as). But, he doesn’t want to seem too interested, because he’s not really looking for a relationship.

Plus, they’re not exactly supposed to date their colleagues…or anything else.

Louis laughs awkwardly and before he can really compute what he’s doing, he thrusts the cake box with the lovely cake inside of it and gets the hell out of there.

He knows the new guy has opened it once he hears his shrill but musical laughter following him down the halls.

*****

Louis is pissed.

Louis. Is. Pissed.

And everyone seems to be acting as if their life is so fucking dandy.

Well, it’s not their fault, really. It’s just that Louis is in a bad mood, and Zayn and Niall are nowhere in sight, so who else is he going to take his frustration out on but the annoying Year 9’s he’s supposed to be teaching Theory?

That’s also the age he really hates. The kids are like little prima donnas, strutting around his classroom and acting like they’ve been places and done things when all they’ve done is messed about in a classroom. And no one’s listening to Louis either. He’s been trying to give these children a lesson on Russian History (brief, but he’s _trying_ ) and all they want to do is play games and write on their arms.

That’s cool and usually Louis would be fine with it. But, just not today.

“Look, I’m going to repeat it again so you munchkins can get it through your heads. The play takes place in the 1800s. That means the characters will be wearing clothes suited to the period, not whatever the hell you bloody want them to wear!” He drops his hands on one of the kids’ desk near the front. The girl looks up at him, and she’s chewing.

“Alright, that’s it! Everyone out!” he orders, pointing with his left arm towards the door.

He stares at the empty space where his lovely silver watch had been and nearly whimpers. But he’s not going to be that dramatic.

The children all grumble at him, but with his evil glare directed their way; they are up on their feet in no time. Louis makes it his duty to scowl at every one of them as they pass by.

“What’s happening here?” The kids stop when Zayn Malik enters the room. He’s wearing a tight button-up; the girls are practically salivating (and maybe even some of the boys, too).

“I’m having a break down, that’s what,” Louis mutters underneath his breath, watching from the corner of his eye as Zayn herds the confused children back to their seats. The girl who was sitting in the desk up front is now at the back.

Zayn snorts and stands next to him, patting his shoulder. “Did the new teacher reject you already? Aw, too bad.”

Louis’ not in the mood for Zayn. But he’s not really in the mood for anyone. Usually he would go along with this, maybe admit to the fact that he does kind of admire Harry’s…gorgeousness. Although, it’s not like anyone would surely reject him, _come on_.

He’s about to deny this accusation, and that’s when it settles in that he’s teaching at the moment. He’s not at home with Zayn gossiping about lads.

“Does Mr. Tomlinson like the new music teacher?” an obnoxious and very annoying kid questions, the rest of the room snickers.

Louis’ certain that if he were to incline his head a little in Zayn’s direction he would see him smirking.

“What? No!” Louis retorts. _Liar_. He gestures to Zayn towards the general direction of the door. Zayn gets the drift.“Anyway that doesn’t matter. I’m going to go outside to talk to Mr. Malik here. Please do something productive.”

Louis can hear the nattering of the kids become louder as he approaches the exit from hell. He heaves a sigh, stepping out into the hallway as the chatter falls behind the closed door.

When he glimpses up at Zayn he can see clear as day that he is worried for him.

“What’s wrong? You’re being all nervy today,” his friend inquires.

Louis points at his [sob] empty wrist. “My watch. It’s stolen.”

“Stolen?”

“Yes. Stolen. As in ‘pooof’ gone!” he gestures the motion in the air as his hands fall to his sides.

This is what has been bugging him since he got home to his apartment last night. Poor Niall had to deal with his antics for the majority of the evening. But he couldn’t help it; he was a hundred percent certain it had been taken from him. He can’t understand how, but it’s making him furious imagining some twat wearing his watch. They wouldn’t even come close to looking as good as him in it. And besides, that watch was from his mum, it has sentimental value.

“Oh,” is all Zayn says in response. Louis waits for him to elaborate but he continues to stare at him blankly. When he does manage to say something, it’s really unintelligible and beyond idiotic.

“What if you dropped it in the cake we made yesterday?” Zayn considers.

Louis wants to laugh out loud and cry at the same time.

“I think we would have noticed that.”

“Yeah but you were too occupied in making sure Niall didn’t blow up anything.”

Ah, yes. He had been. Now Zayn did have a point. Niall has this problem that hasn’t been dealt with yet. Whatever he touches ends up going to ruin. He doesn’t do it intentionally (okay, he does, that’s a lie) but it happens all the same. Like that one time Louis gave him his clothes to dry and somehow they came back a little crispy. He’s still not sure how that happened, but he doesn’t really want to know either.

“So it could be in the cake…?” Realisation starts to set in. It’s preposterous, entirely mad, but it’s not impossible. “Harry didn’t eat it, did he?”

If he did then he would have said something. It’s not like you could chew down a watch.

Either way, this called for some investigating. Louis kind of felt bad for yelling at his students all day because of his grumpiness, but the day might end happily after all.

“Alright, we’re going to go and fetch it then!” Louis nods cheerfully, clapping his hands together.

 _“We?”_ Zayn raises his eyebrows.

“Oui.”

*****

The struggle between door and human is what makes this all the more difficult.

Music Room 1 is locked from the inside. Luckily, Zayn has all the keys to the classrooms. If not then they would have had to break in. That wouldn’t have been so good. At the moment, however, the door is refusing to budge. Louis feels that the drawing of Harry is mocking him.

“For crying out loud!” He kicks the door angrily, and Zayn snatches the keys from him, chuckling at him like the annoying dick he is.

And Zayn opens the door easily. Good on him.

So there in and the lights to the room switch on instantaneously. Louis spots their cake resting on Harry’s desk, untouched. He rushes up to it, followed by the nonchalant Zayn, and begins to slowly open the cake box. He doesn’t want to ruin the packaging, but they’re going to have to open it either way. Harry is bound to notice this; Louis’ still not quite sure what excuse he is going to use to cover it up. When he finishes doing this, he stares back down at the chocolate cake and frowns.

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he admits, “It looks so nice.”

Zayn nods. “Yeah, but we’re going to have to cut through it anyway. I’ll go get a knife.”

Zayn sprints out of the door leaving Louis alone in Harry’s classroom.

He looks down at the cake and hears his stomach rumble in response. It does look very nice. He’s curious what it tastes like, he wasn’t allowed to lick the spoon.

It’s a second later and he gives up on waiting for Zayn to come back with the knife. He dashes any hesitancy, digging his hands into the cake. Within a few minutes of digging he comes up with nothing.

Louis wipes the chocolate off his hands, disappointed.

“Are you looking for something?”

Louis freezes at this; he can tell by the person’s voice that it is Harry.

Now he knows what it feels like to be ‘caught red handed’ and where the hell is Zayn during this?

Louis swings himself around, hiding the cake behind his body. He has figured out that Harry probably saw the mess that was the cake, but he won’t own up to it yet.

“Well I…” he searches in his head for an excuse. “I wanted to talk to you!”

_Great one, Louis. Now you’re going to need to tell him **why.**_

Harry’s dressed nicely today, it seems. He’s wearing a patterned button-up, a waistcoat that seems to hug every inch of his waist, and skinny jeans that leave nothing for the imagination.

 “Really?” Harry smiles, he lights up the room, “What about?”

He seems so genuinely happy that Louis wants to talk to him, like he’s been given the best prize you can get. He sits down on one of the students’ desks leaning forward so that his body is inclined towards Louis.

It’s at this point that Louis loses the simple motor skill of speaking. He needs to say something, anything. Words are screaming at him in his head, but he can’t open his mouth to say them.

Then it clicks.

“I think I’ve lost my watch, I came to ask if you’ve seen it,” Louis rambles on.

Harry’s pupils grow large with recognition. “A watch?” he says aloud and pulls something vaguely familiar from his trouser pocket.

Louis can’t believe it, but Harry has his watch.

“Why didn’t you give it back to me if you found it?” He asks.

Harry’s calm, but his face is also as blank as a sheet.

“I borrowed it,” Harry answers.

Louis blinks for a second and then another, but he’s finding it hard to process this information. Harry, all curly haired and bright eyed and so so pretty, is the culprit of his misfortunes. What. The. Hell.

 “It’s stealing if you don’t ask, Harry.” He storms up to him and snatches back his watch, stuffing it back in his pocket. “And what did you possibly need to borrow it for?”

There’s a hint of a smile dancing on Harry’s lips, a secretive smile, one that says _I know something that you don’t._ It irritates Louis.

Harry is interesting. But then, stealing is never a good thing. Louis’ opinion on Harry has changed from this interaction, just a little. In fact, he’s not even sure if he wants to be in the same room as him. What if he decides to steal something else of his next?

“You’re lucky I’m not going to report you,” Louis tells him, “But if you steal anything of mine again I won’t go easy on you.”

Harry jumps off of the desk, propelling himself forward so that he is directly in front of Louis, so close to him.

His gaze is captivating.

“I look forward to it.” Harry’s eyes are swimming with mirth.

*****

Even before he opens the door, his apartment smells like burnt apple. It’s not an unpleasant smell; in fact, it reminds him of the winter weather, a group of friends clustering around an open fire. What does bother him is the fact that there are plumes of smoke floating out of an open window.

He’s sure that it’s only a matter of time until Niall burns his flat down.

Louis bangs on the door. “Niall!”

The Irish boy in question steps out with an ambitious smile on his face. He’s wearing an apron around his waist with the words ‘super cook’ in bold red writing. He’s not wearing a shirt underneath. At least he is wearing jeans.

Louis expects a loving greeting. And that’s what he usually gets. He has been living with Niall since his University days, and this kind of behaviour has become tradition. But, Niall seems to be taking too long in opening the door for Louis.

“Go away,” Niall orders, but he’s still grinning at him. Louis finds he’s rather afraid of that grin.

Louis peers over Niall’s shoulder, sees the smoke billowing over a frying pan leaning precariously close to the edge. Louis’ about to barge in and save the day, but Niall pushes him back with a quick shove.

“You’re kicking me out,” Louis asserts.

Niall nods. “Just go…do something. But come back around 8. I’m making something amazing.”

It’s icy outside, considering that it’s early December, and Louis’ beginning to think his bum is going numb. And Niall wants him to ‘go do something’. If he means ‘go and die of hypothermia’ then that can be arranged.

“You’re kicking _me_ out of _my apartment_ ,” Louis repeats, because of all the weird things Niall has done in his life, this could be considered the jackpot.

Niall doesn’t seem fazed by Louis’ behaviour. It’s only the sound of the smoke monitor going off inside that brings him to attention.

Niall brings the door near to a close before chucking a smirk over his shoulder. “See you later.”

And then he’s gone and Louis stands there like a lemon wondering exactly why he is friends with these people.

He hears Niall drop something and cringes. _Today is the day he burns down my apartment,_ he thinks.

*****

“You know, life does really suck.”

_“Uh-huh.”_

“Like, I’m homeless for 4 hours. What the heck am I going to do?”

_“I don’t know, pick up a hooker?”_

Louis brings the phone away from his face and glares at it, glares through it at the prick on the end of the line.

“Yeah and you don’t even seem to give a toss, Zayn.”

There’s a rustling at the other end, and Zayn’s quiet for a while. Louis considers going over to his house and camping out there. But he also has an urge to hang up on Zayn so the other boy can grovel at him tomorrow. That would be amusing.

_“I do, really. But I’m kind of busy, Lou.”_

Louis rolls his eyes. He’s sure that Zayn knows this. They’re linked, definitely. “Busy?”

_“Yeah. **Busy** busy.” _

Oh. Right. Now Louis really does have the urge to hang up on Zayn. In fact, he shouldn’t know these things. He doesn’t want to know what Zayn gets up to; it’s a mutual agreement between the two of them. But the worse thing about this is that it’s a reminder of how sexually inactive he is. It kind of makes him a little depressed. Just a little.

“Okay, then. I’m going to hang up now. Say hello to…” He stops speaking immediately. Zayn’s not one for having relationships. Most of them are one night stands. He’s at about number 20 by now, Louis assumes.

“ _’Kay. See you later, Louis,”_ and he hangs up. Simple as that.

Louis looks at his phone for a few minutes afterwards, wishing for another call to come through. He desperately wants to talk to someone. He can’t deal with being alone for this long. He finally gives up on the hope of another phone call, and slips his phone back in his pocket. Louis stretches out his arms, considering having a nap in this little café he’s in. He’s sure the people in here wouldn’t mind too much. He doesn’t snore, that’s a plus point, isn’t it?

Louis becomes bored within, let’s say, a second. Maybe shorter than that. At some point he digs his phone back out of his pocket again and starts playing Candy Crush. Not even that is enough to take away the boredom.

He sets the phone down on the table, leaning backwards as he takes in the scene of the café. There’s a guy, kind of well built and also very good looking, staring right at him. It’s a little flattering, but then again, it’s a bit weird too. He starts moving, but then, he doesn’t see one of the waiters heading in the same direction.

And then there’s a collision. Glasses and food fly everywhere. Onto Louis’ table. Onto _him._ The guy who started it all is still staring at him.

“God, I’m so sorry,” the boy apologises, both to the waiter and to Louis, who is staring down at the splodge stuck on his shirt.

“You should have looked where you were going,” Louis snaps, and it’s not supposed to sound angry, not really, but he can’t contain it. He feels much worse when the boy looks back at him with an expression that mirrors a kicked puppy.

Louis shakes his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to react like that. You know what, take a seat. It looks busy in here anyway.”

The other boy does so, thankful for Louis’ invitation. He mentions his name quickly, something like ‘Liam’. He takes a seat opposite Louis, fiddling with the cup of coffee that he had bought earlier (Louis has no clue how that survived the fall).

“So why were you staring at me so much?” Louis asks out of the blue.

Liam goes a lovely shade of red. “No, I mean, I just thought I’ve seen you before.”

Louis laughs at that. He’s heard a lot of pick up lines but that is downright awful.

“Oh. Wow. Mate that is no way to pick up a guy.”

Liam goes redder at this.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I…you work at St. Charles in town right?” Liam inquires and then it’s Louis’ turn to be embarrassed.

Just once could Louis have someone to fawn over him? Why does everything have to be like this?

“Oh god,” he puts a hand over his face, “Yeah, I do.”

It’s typical that when he meets a fit guy (he’s not exactly his type but he can appreciate him) it ends up being about work. Story of his life, it seems.

Liam doesn’t press the matter, nor does he tease him about it. Instead he smiles innocently.

“That’s great. My friend works there…Harry Styles?” Liam waits to see recognition in Louis’ face. He gets it. “I’m a fitness trainer so your school invited me to help at the gym once. I saw you acting out a scene from a play. I think it was Hamlet. It was great.”

Louis hides behind his hands again. “God no. That was awful. I was taking the mick out of the fucking thing.”

Louis doesn’t dwell on the fact that Liam is friends with Harry Stealer Styles. He chooses to forget it, leave it in a place where he won’t have to deal with it. Ever.

 Liam brings his cup of coffee up to his lips and takes a long sip. He glances up at one of the pictures hanging on the wall. “No. Harry thought it was amazing, too.”

And then Liam puts the image in Louis’ head. He’s standing by himself in the small auditorium; play in one hand, a makeshift skull in the other. He’s reciting his lines, overdramatizing it (‘ _to be or not to be’_ ), making him look like an utter idiot. And Harry’s watching him with a smile on his face, taking it all in.

Louis wants to run away now. He wants to be home. He wants Niall to stop being a prick and let him back in his flat.

Still, he has three hours left to go.

*****

Niall has failed once again to prove that he is able to use a kitchen.

When Louis does get home, he isn’t welcomed by the smell of delicious food. Instead, he’s welcomed by Niall’s very upset face. And an apartment that really does stink.

“I don’t know what happened,” Niall starts blubbing, actually full on blubbing. If he’s trying to look cute, it’s not working. “I just turned away for a second and then…”

Louis doesn’t need to know what happens. He can see what happens. It’s unfortunate that his room is so close to the kitchen. Although, he is curious as to why his room has the most damage.

So Niall’s blown up his room. Where is he supposed to sleep now?

Niall’s still upset it seems. He won’t stop crying. Louis doesn’t want to yell at him, he’s not in the mood for it. He can’t exactly stay annoyed at Niall for long. He shakes his head and brings Niall’s body closer to his own, bringing him into a hug. The boy folds into it, his hands wrapping around Louis’ waist as he holds him tight.

“It’s fine. We can get it fixed.”

Niall nods and sinks his face down into the material of Louis’ shirt. He doesn’t mention the coffee stain.

“Does that mean I can still make you stuff?” Niall asks into his shirt.

Louis shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

And that snaps Niall right out of it. He pulls Louis down to the couch, still hugging him to death, and demands that they have a (manly) movie night in to compensate for what has happened. Louis’ totally up for it.

*****

When Louis enters his classroom the following morning he’s somewhat surprised to see Harry sitting on top of his desk while his minions do his dirty work for him. And by that he means steal the theatre props.

At first, he drops his belongings on the floor and _stares._ Harry looks sexy in whatever he is wearing. It’s all tight – tight black work shirt, tight grey jeans. This outfit only accentuates whatever curves he’s got, makes it hard to look away when he bends over the desk –oh fucking god- to reach for a pen and put it in his pocket. All the while, he’s locking eyes with Louis. It’s like he’s challenging him to do something. To act on this odd behaviour. His music students are taking his props and putting them into bags.

“Good morning, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry greets, leaning back onto the desk, his back going into a bit of an arch.

Louis stomps up towards the man in question, gives him the best scowl he can muster. He points an accusatory finger right into Harry’s chest.

“What do you think you are doing?” he demands, voice rising.

The students have taken everything. But he can’t understand what for.

Harry leans into Louis’ touch, grabbing hold of Louis’ hand in a vice grip. He doesn’t let go, just holds on. Louis swears there’s a connection between them, a spark. But then again, he’s not sure of a lot of things right now.

“I’m borrowing,” Harry replies, dropping his hand. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

Louis goes livid. “I _do_ mind. I mind a lot, actually. I’d like it if you returned everything you’ve taken.”

Harry jumps off of the desk with a graceful swing of his hips. He clasps Louis’ shoulder. Louis’ suddenly aware of how close he is.

“No can do, babe.”

And then he lets go, stepping away with his hands deep in his pockets.

For a second, Louis is too entranced. It’s only when Harry’s out of the door that he finds himself able to speak again.

“Don’t call me babe!”

Harry doesn’t hear this, or if he has, he’s chosen not to answer back.

Louis runs a hand through his hair, turning around to his desk. There’s a note stuck on one of his coffee mugs, the handwriting similar to that on the door of Music Room 1.

_Dear Louis,_

_Fancy a cup of tea with me? Maybe then you’ll get your stuff back ;)_

_Harry._

*****

There is nothing that will make him concede to Harry’s demands. If this is his way to try and flatter him, it’s not working. All of this jeopardizes his lessons. It’s not charming in any way!

Except, it kind of is.

 Louis’ discovered that Harry has left more things for him in the room. The places where he had taken equipment were littered with little notes, some cheeky, some sweet. Louis’ conflicted about this whole situation.

But he has to get his stuff back. And he’s going to do it his way, not by giving in and going on a date with Harry (or at least that’s what it sounds like). He has other plans in mind.

He knows how to go about it. It’s obvious. If Harry wants to play it this way, then fine, Louis will too. He just doesn’t want to get caught.

This means he needs a partner in crime to succeed in his mission. Zayn’s the obvious contender.

“No,” is what Zayn says when Louis asks him. He’s currently sorting through something that looks horribly boring.

Louis pouts; if Zayn denies him now then he has no heart. “Please, Zayn. It’ll be fun!”

Zayn appears tired already; there are bags underneath his eyes and a rather grumpy expression clouding his face. Louis’ curious as to what’s wrong with him, but he decides not to push it.

Zayn leans back on his office chair and looks up at Louis. “Okay, but only on one condition.”

Louis is so close to leaping up in the air. He grabs onto Zayn and hugs him hard, expressing his gratitude. Zayn’s stiff and awkward underneath him.

“What’s that? You’ll know I’ll do anything for you, Z.”

“Good at least we’ve got that sorted,” Zayn’s suddenly grinning at him like an evil mastermind. “And you can’t go back on your word, you know.”

Louis nods ecstatically. “Of course, I would never.”

Zayn’s such an excellent friend.

*****

_No he is not, he is **really** not. _

Louis cringes as he looks at himself in the window of Zayn’s car. It looked okay in the mirror in his flat, but he’s starting to feel like it was a bad idea to agree to even step out of his door like this.

When Zayn had shoved a bag of clothes at Louis earlier that evening, he didn’t expect to be standing outside of his school, dressed in a rather scandalous outfit. It’s black leather. Everywhere. From the tight-fitting top and the leggings and even his bloody shoes. His whole body has gone numb. And to top it all off, Zayn forced him to wear some sunglasses (“But Zayn, you are aware it is night-time, we don’t wear sunglasses at night.” “Just wear them, Lou. You look hot.”). Louis can’t fathom the reason behind it all.

“Why am I dressed like this again?” Louis asks again for the fiftieth time.

Zayn’s wearing something similar, but the two of them combined look like a cross between a James Bond movie and Sandy in Grease’s ‘ _You’re The One That I Want’._

Zayn pushes his sunglasses up his forehead. “Because you agreed to do whatever I wanted. I thought it would be fun to dress up like this. Plus, you look smoking in that outfit.” He leans forward, his breath slightly smelling of cigarettes as he goes in for a quick kiss on the cheek.

Louis tries to push him back, but Zayn’s persistent and keeps on trying to place kisses on his face. It’s beginning to get ridiculous and Zayn’s enjoying himself all too much.

The problem with Zayn is that he knows no boundaries. He’s been like this ever since they first met. And that’s probably why they’re closer than most friends. They even went through a bit of a relationship stage until Louis decided to push him away.

It still hurts sometimes when he thinks about it.

Louis finally manages to push Zayn off of him, but he’s still laughing softly, even when they’ve entered the school. They have to be deadly quiet; they don’t want to set off any alarms. It’s a little ridiculous that they’re doing this after school hours, but then, not everything Louis does makes sense all the time.

But it’s likely that Zayn’s shoes might ruin the whole operation.

“Hey, squeaky,” Louis whispers to Zayn harshly, “Stop with your squeaking.”

He can see Zayn flip him off in the dim light. Louis fights the urge to retaliate the same back.

“That’s the room, right?” Zayn asks, pointing to Music Room 1. Louis nods in response.

As they stand outside the door, Zayn rummages in his pocket for the set of keys to all of the rooms. He keeps on searching. He comes up with nothing.

“Oh, shit.”

“What now?”

“I’ve forgotten the keys. We won’t be able to break in.”

Louis stops to think for a second. An idea comes to mind. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He doesn’t give his friend time to agree with him as he’s already jogging away to the outside of the building. He’s vaguely aware that doing this means that he _will_ be breaking in, but he doesn’t care. Right now, he’s buzzing with adrenalin, his body coursing with it.

Louis spots the window linking to Music Room 1 and does a little jump in the air from his luck. The window’s already slightly ajar anyway, and it doesn’t look too hard to climb into. There are a few holes on the brick walls where he can put his feet, it looks rather simple.

It’s not simple.

He tries three times to climb up the wall until he gets himself to the window; it takes all his effort to pull himself through and to swing his legs around so they are dangling inside rather than out. He thinks he has the hang of it for a second, but then he makes the wrong move, and he’s hurtling to the floor.

The fall hurts like a bitch. Louis’ dizzy for a bit, splayed over the floor in a haphazard state.

“Ow, fuck,” he swears and eases himself onto his feet. He might be in pain but he’s inside. Now all he has to do is get the door open so Zayn can come and help him.

He puts one foot forward and doesn’t get any further.

There’s someone _singing._ Not the kind of singing he’s used to, the high pitched giggly kind that Niall sometimes makes when he’s drunk, not even the girlish voices of his sisters, this voice is different.

Louis’ distracted immediately, turning around on his heel to find where the serene sound is coming from. It’s one of the music booths; in fact, he can see the music teacher through the window. His back is turned to him.

Logically, Louis should be running as fast as he can. He should be finding the key, wherever it may be, and opening the door to escape. He shouldn’t be outright gawping at Harry Styles, at the man’s pained expression, at the way his eyes close as he sings that one high note.

God. He’s too pretty for a kleptomaniac. If that’s what you’d want to call him.

Louis could watch him sing forever.

Well, until Zayn comes along and ruins everything. He obviously doesn’t know what being _quiet_ is.

“Louis?” the man in question whisper-shouts, “Are you in there yet?”

Louis’ eyes almost bug out of his head at this. He bites his lip, swearing some obscene profanities as he observes Harry slowly turn his head towards him.

He has two options.

  1. Get a bollocking from the pretty but weird guy.
  2. Hide from the pretty but weird guy.



It takes Louis a moment for him to pick what he will do. So he opts for throwing himself behind Harry’s desk, hoping that this will conceal him.

In front of him is a saxophone case and it’s the wall between him and Harry Styles.

Louis doesn’t hear Zayn’s voice anymore, but he knows that Harry is onto him. He’s out of the music booth now and peering around the room, a suspicious expression on his face. He turns his head in the direction of where Louis is hidden. In a fit of panic, Louis pushes himself back. One of his legs clumsily kicks over the saxophone. He goes rigidly still.

And now Harry is watching him.

“Hi,” Louis squeaks out, legs cramping from being stuck in the same position.

Harry raises his eyebrows at him and the pushed over saxophone case. “Hi.”

Louis chooses this moment to jump to his feet. It’s been the second time now in only a day that he’s been caught snooping around Harry’s classroom.

Harry has noticed, too. “Is this going to be a habit?”  He cocks his head. “It seems you like sneaking in here.”

“It’s not like I want to. I mean, I’m doing this because you stole my…”

“Did you get my note?” Harry interrupts, eager to hear Louis’ answer.

Louis is standing as far away from Harry as possible. He’s very uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Your note?” Louis snorts, heaving a sigh. “I didn’t come here because of that. And I’m not going on a date with you.”

Harry pouts at him, full on pouts. It’s far better than when Louis pouts to get his way. It actually makes Harry look cute. Ish. Cute-ish.

“That’s a shame, I mean; I could have taken you on the best date ever.”

 _So it was a date,_ Louis thinks.

Harry continues on, moving closer to Louis. “You’re seriously missing out, Louis. Like, I could have made it _so_ worth your while,” he leans into him, his hip bumping his own, “And don’t get me started on the sex.”

Louis leaps backwards like he’s been stung. He’s not red at all; really he isn’t ( _denial_.)

“I would never have sex on the first date,” Louis affirms. He doesn’t like the fact that Harry’s sniggering at him.

Harry doesn’t need to say anything for Louis to understand what is on his mind. He can see the lust in his eyes.

“Oh, really?” Harry says, “So what would I have to do to make you change your mind?”

Louis knows he should be a little sassy back. Tell him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, or something. Though, he doesn’t do that. He sticks out his hand instead.

“You have to be my friend first. And that doesn’t mean you can steal from me either. That’s just weird.”

Harry shrugs, but grabs onto Louis’ hand tight. His hand is larger than Louis’, but it’s warm and comforting. Louis lets go far too late.

*****

“You _left me_ , Zayn.”

_“I got bored, Louis. You took too long.”_

“You left me there, all alone with Klepto Harry. With no way to drive back home. Harry had to drive me back. It was the weirdest twenty minutes of my life.”

_“He must have appreciated it though. Considering what you were wearing.”_

“All of this is your fault. You’re demoted from best friend position. Niall gets it instead.”

_“So are you and Harry dating now?”_

“NO!”

Louis hangs up the phone.

*****

Liam Payne is at his window.

In fact, his hands are pressed up against it and he’s distracting Louis’ Year Seven class.

Louis contemplates leaving him outside, because, he doesn’t really know the guy. But then when he goes to close the blinds, Liam’s pointing at him madly. So he decides to open the back door to let him in.

“What are you doing here?” Louis asks, growing suspicious.

Liam’s palms are shaking. He’s glancing from Louis to the kids and back again.

“I need you to help me,” he all but begs. Louis blinks at him.

Louis doesn’t know Liam well at all. He only really met him a few days ago, and yeah, they might have exchanged phone numbers since then but they’re not close enough yet to rely on each other. Louis’ really just shocked that Liam knows what classroom he teaches in.

The kids in his classroom are all staring at the (semi) adults curiously. Louis glares at them. He pulls Liam over to the side, where no one else can hear them.

“Alright, but with what?” he inquires.

There’s silence between the two of them as Liam readies himself to speak.

“It’s going to sound like a really odd request but please bear with it,” Liam’s agitated all of a sudden.

“Okay.”

“But you need to come with me.”

“Liam, I’m teaching right now. I can’t just leave.”

“But you have to, please; I won’t bother you with anything like this again.” Liam’s looking at him with puppy dog eyes. He’s making it unbelievably difficult to say no.

Louis’ almost convinced. He’d like to escape the monotony of the classroom and he is intrigued by what Liam’s so desperate about.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

It’s probably not even that big of a deal.

*****

“GET OFF OF THE FUCKING ROOF.”

This is what Louis’ been shouting for the last hour or so. It hasn’t been helping too much. That’s probably why his throat is starting to hurt from all the screaming.

Harry is a nuisance, really. He’s performing some kind of protest, of sorts. Louis doesn’t know exactly why Harry’s doing this, but the curly haired boy can’t be left sitting on the roof anymore. One tiny move and he might go ricocheting off of it. And then they’d be left with Dead Harry. Louis figures he prefers Klepto Harry to Dead Harry.

Harry swings one leg over the other and in the process knocking down a few pieces of housing from above.

“You can’t make me!” He sticks out his tongue.

Louis just looks up at him dumbfounded and then back at Liam.

“Why did you bring me here again?”

Liam is chewing on his nails with worry. “Well, he was calling for you. Said he’d only get down if I brought him a ‘Louis Tomlinson.’”

Harry leans over the edge of the roof and yells, “A _naked_ Louis Tomlinson. This Louis is not naked. I’m very disappointed.”

 _He’s an idiot,_ Louis thinks, _an absolute idiot._

This twenty-something year old man is acting like a young teenager, no way is he getting what he wants.

“What is he up there for anyway?” Louis asks, truly interested.

It’s at this point that Liam grimaces. There’s some kind of profane horror set deep into his eyes. “You don’t want to know.”

Except, Louis does want to know. He really does. He wants to get into Harry’s head. Understand him better than he currently does. Right now, Harry’s just a strange bloke who happens to be quite good looking to boot. If you took away the fact that he likes to steal then yeah, Louis would probably be crushing on him like crazy.

Harry’s minding his own business up there. He seems to be perfectly happy. He’s singing a song underneath his breath _don’t worry about a thing, ‘cause every little thing is gonna be alright._ He’s kicking his legs out, glancing up at the sky above.

“So what do we have to do to make you come down?” Louis questions.

Harry stops singing and furrows his eyebrows, thinking.

After a short silence, he exclaims very loudly, “STRIP.” Then he whispers, “Just Louis though.”

Louis makes a disgusted noise. _“No.”_

He might have agreed to become friends with Harry (which is going to be _so_ weird anyway) but he won’t go that far for no one. Especially not in broad daylight. He’s really had enough of the younger man’s antics; he can’t quite process the fact that this guy is a qualified teacher. He’s really curious as to how he even got past the first stage of the interview process.

Louis’ so close to abandoning this whole fiasco when Liam is pulling at him. Again with those puppy dog eyes.

Louis really can’t believe this, but he’s going to have to do what Harry says. He’s really losing his dignity now.

“Fine then,” he mutters, unbuttoning his work shirt, staring daggers at Harry’s suddenly interested face.

There is no one around but them, if he’s going to actually strip then it won’t be that bad, will it?

All of this is so mad. Harry is utterly insane.

Louis’ thrown his work shirt away and now he’s half naked, chest exposed. Harry’s licking his lips at him.

“That is no way to look at a friend, Mr. Styles,” Louis scolds him.

Harry grins back. “I really can’t help it, y’know.” He pauses and Louis stops his stripping. He’s not too comfortable about getting naked. That’s certainly not happening. “I think I’m going to come down now.”

And then he’s out of sight and jumping with a loud thud onto the tarmac floor. Beside him, Liam appears to be relieved. Louis’ shivering; goose bumps are appearing on his skin. Harry happens to notice.

“Do you want a hug to warm you up?” Harry’s arms are spread out towards him. Louis can see his dimples.

Louis pretends to be disinterested. But he can’t, really. He would be interested to know what it feels like to be so close to Harry like that.

Wait. No. He doesn’t, he really doesn’t. He takes that back.

“I’m fine, thanks. I’m going to go put my shirt back on.” He lifts it in the air to prove his point; Harry glances at it once, and then snatches it from him.

“Now can I hug you?”

“I think Liam would feel left out.”

Liam chuckles. Louis can’t believe he’s not trying to help him here.

“I don’t think he minds. Come on, Louis. Just a friendly hug?” And Harry’s just too hard to deny.

Louis lets out an exasperated sound and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist in a noncommittal way. Harry is having none of it. He grabs hold of Louis tight, no gap between them, as his hand travels to Louis’ arse and slaps hard.

Louis doesn’t whimper. He _does not_ whimper.

“Friendly my arse,” Louis mutters. Harry giggles.

*****

 **[6:00AM] [Harry Styles]** to **[Louis Tomlinson]** : _good morning, Lou ;)_

 **[6:09AM] [Louis Tomlinson]** to **[Harry Styles]:** how the hell did you get this number.

It’s Saturday, and that means staying in bed and sleeping the day away. But, oh wait, he doesn’t have a bed. Because someone blew it up.

He’s not annoyed with Niall, but he’d like to wake up sometime soon without feeling like a rod has been attached to his spine. That would be nice.

It’s 6AM though, and usually Louis would be sleeping in until around 12 on a weekend. Apparently Harry doesn’t do that. Apparently Harry’s more of a stalker than Louis thought.

His phone vibrates once again and Louis doesn’t hesitate on picking it up to check Harry’s text.

 **[6:11AM] [Harry Styles]** to **[Louis Tomlinson]** : _Liam gave it to me but that doesn’t matter. i was wondering whether you wanted to meet up for coffee._

 **[6:12AM] [Louis Tomlinson]** to **[Harry Styles]:** at 6AM??

 **[6:14AM] [Harry Styles]** to **[Louis Tomlinson]** : _no, you donut. at around, say, 10ish? and i take that as a yes. you can’t back out now :D_

Louis’ sitting up straight on his and Niall’s settee. He can see Niall rummaging around their destroyed kitchen in dismay. They’re really going to have to pay to get it all fixed soon.

Niall seems relatively upset, within a second he sinks into the couch next to Louis, resting his head on Louis’ bicep.

“Whatcha doing?” He leans over and squints at the small iPhone screen.

“Texting,” Louis responds, trying his hardest to keep back the smile threatening to spread across his lips.

 **[6:20AM] [Harry Styles]** to **[Louis Tomlinson]** : _oh, and wear something sexy. you might catch somebody’s eye._

Harry hasn’t made an effort to force down these sorts of comments. Louis doesn’t mind.

But now he has the dilemma of what to wear. If he were to go along with Harry’s request and wear the sexiest outfit in his closet, then he would be admitting to the fact that he’s interested. But maybe he is, maybe he is a tad. There’s something about Harry. But, Louis’ not sure whether he wants to be more than friends with him, yet.

There’s one thing that he knows for certain. He’s going to take years finding what to wear.

*****

Louis is going on a date.

Wait, no he isn’t. This is not a date. Not a date at all. Just a friendly get together with a _friend._

This doesn’t make him any less nervous.

His palms are sweating and he’s agitated. Every curly haired bloke that passes him looks like Harry, and each time they are not. He shouldn’t be like this. The intentions of this meet up are only for them to get to know each other better. Louis also sees this as an opportunity to bribe Harry into giving him his supplies back. That should be the main goal.

He needs to stop shaking. He needs to calm down.

Louis brings his watch up to his face. It’s 10:25. 25 minutes after Harry said to meet. If Harry stands him up then he will seriously throw a fit. Louis’ standing outside of Starbucks, he’s aware he probably looks like a lonely sap right now. He glares at anyone who dares to look at him with concern.

He’s cold too; he’s wearing a low cut top, exposing the top of his chest, and super tight skinny jeans to match (and a coat of course, it’s supposed to be December). He looks sexy, well; at least he hopes he does. But even so, his outfit is not enough to keep him warm. Louis really has overestimated the weather this time.

Louis is so close to making the decision on giving up and going home. But then he spots the real Harry.

Harry’s running towards him, puffs of cold air coming out of his mouth. His nose is slightly red and he’s breathing heavily. As he stops right in front of Louis, he collapses, bending over as he starts breathing properly again.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I got caught…” He trails off at that, unwilling to continue.

Louis raises an eyebrow at him. “You got caught doing what, exactly?”

That’s when he realises that Harry is holding something behind his back. Harry’s left arm drops.

“Did you – did you steal that?” Louis asks, incredulous.

Harry is holding a baby. In one of those carrier things. A fucking baby.

“I didn’t…I mean, I didn’t _intend to._ I was just playing with her but then when her mum was approaching she started screaming and I panicked!”

Louis can’t help it. He shouldn’t laugh, but he does.

He’s bent over with laughter, his eyes filling with tears. Of all the things that he has witnessed Harry do, this is by far the strangest. Harry’s upset about the whole dilemma, but he’s becoming increasingly annoyed at Louis’ nonstop hysterics.

Louis sinks down to his knees and looks at the little girl. She’s got chestnut brown eyes and tufts of blonde hair. She’s adorable. The baby girl giggles at him, reaching her hand up to pat his face. He finds he kind of likes her.

“You’re _so_ cute,” he coos at her, “But we’re going to have to take you back to your mummy.”

She goes silent at that.

Louis straightens up and Harry’s expression hasn’t changed at all.

“I’ve completely ruined today, haven’t I?” He’s frowning way too much. Louis prefers it when he’s smiling. He can’t see his dimples this way.

Louis pulls a face. “No, you haven’t. We’ll go bring the baby back to her mum and then we can go back to our date.”

Harry perks up at this. He’s back to smirking again. “Date?”

 That was a slip of the tongue. He’s been thinking about this so much that he’s said it out loud. Louis chews down on his lip, trying to figure out what to say. _It’s not a date; this is a friendly get together. This will not lead to anything. It can’t lead to anything._

“I didn’t mean that,” he finally says.

Harry shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m fine with being just friends with you anyway.”

It sounds harsh. It might not be Harry’s intention, but Louis hears something akin to malice in the other man’s voice. Zayn would say something along the lines of: _you’re stringing him along, no wonder he’s reacted this way._ And Louis would agree with him. Louis wants to redeem himself, but Harry’s back to normal within a heartbeat.

“Okay, operation seek out mum is go!” Harry exclaims, grabbing onto Louis’ wrist and trailing him away from the warmness of Starbucks. So long dear coffee.

The little girl keeps on giggling, her small eyes glued to Harry. _You have a crush on Harry too, do you?_ Louis tickles her stomach and she makes this lovely gurgling sound.

*****

Louis’ never ran so fast in his life. His heart is beating at a frenzied rhythm.

They took the baby back to her mum, but it didn’t exactly go well.

“I don’t understand why she was looking at me like that. I gave her child back!” Harry says after they’ve rounded a corner away from the angry woman. He’s breathing as heavily as Louis is. They’re being ogled at by nearly every person who walks by them. Louis doesn’t pay them any attention.

“You did take her in the first place,” Louis snipes.

Harry frowns at him, it’s like he can’t understand that this is a bad thing. Louis really doesn’t get him.

“Yeah but she didn’t have to hit me,” he sulks, rubbing his shoulder languidly. 

Louis rolls his eyes. “You’re being a baby. It probably doesn’t even hurt.” To prove his point he forms his hand into a fist, punching Harry’s shoulder a little too harshly.

Harry yelps and drops to the ground as soon as his hand connects with his shoulders. Louis’ eyes go as wide as sauce-spoons.

“Shit,” he swears.

“Owwwwwww.” Harry is swearing as well, underneath the painful grunts.

“Oh god what have I done. Have I injured you? I’m so sorry!” Louis is thinking about all the worse possible things he could have done to Harry’s arm. He might have made matters worse; a small bruise might have grown into a huge purple one. He would be the culprit of it.

_Don’t hit the pretty bloke. Isn’t that rule one of obviousness?_

Louis crouches down to be on the same level as Harry. “What should I do?” he asks. He’s not good in a crisis. At least Harry’s not bleeding.

One of Harry’s hands is gripped on his shoulder, it loosens and suddenly his hand is grabbing out for Louis. The small gap between them is diminished, and Harry’s staring at him and then to his lips and back again. He’s grinning cheekily and it feels almost as if they aren’t in the middle of a busy street, but they’re somewhere else, somewhere private.

“Kiss me better?” Harry asks with a tilt of his head. 

Louis can’t believe it, but he’s actually thinking about it. He leans closer, his nose brushing Harry’s own.

“Far too soon,” he pushes away, watching Harry’s confidence fall.

Harry shakes his head as he stands up. “You drive me crazy, Louis.”

Louis beams, and he can’t help it, Harry brings this side out of him. “My pleasure,” he says and bows down in front of Harry with as much grace as a prince. A gorgeous prince.

*****

Apparently, Harry lives quite near to Louis. He even goes on the same subway line as him. Either that or he’s following him. Not that Louis minds that, because he doesn’t.

The underground isn’t that busy, but Harry’s sitting next to him so close on one of the trains, so close that he is almost sitting on _top_ of him. And it’s fine, really, Louis doesn’t mind this, it’s lovely to be this comfortable around someone. The only person he’s like this with is Zayn but then this is so much different. It _feels_ so much different.

Harry’s fidgety, squirming in his seat every five seconds as he glances up every so often to see what station they have arrived at.

Louis knows Harry has to leave when the man groans loudly in his ear.

“Damn, it’s my stop.”

The train halts. Harry’s got a mere few seconds to hop off before it leaves.

“I don’t want to get off.”

Louis turns his head towards Harry, and he knows he shouldn’t encourage it, shouldn’t keep on doing this. But he can’t help himself.

“Then don’t.”

The train moves on with Harry still on it. 

*****

“What is with the stealing anyway?”

They’re two minutes away from Louis’ door. He’s been trying to walk as slow as he can; the idea of having to leave Harry is an awful one that he doesn’t want to think about. So they walk at a slow pace, and even though Louis is freezing, he’s okay with it.

Harry bites his lip at Louis’ question, and it’s a while before he really answers. “I don’t know. I just…do.”

“Oh come on, there must be a better reason than that?” Louis isn’t trying to dig deep, he’s purely curious. He wants to know as much about Harry as he can. Is that a bad thing? In some cases, it may be. It  _should_ be a bad thing.

Except, Harry isn’t Zayn, though. It’s not the same.

“Alright,” Harry finally says, “It’s because someone…stole my heart. And they broke it too. After that, one of the ways I could make myself forget was by taking everything I could get. Just because I wanted to. I don’t mean it half of the time. I just can’t stop myself anymore.”

Oh no. Louis’ crossed the line this time, he’s sure of it. He’s breaking all the rules he would usually set for himself. He doesn’t really want to know about someone breaking Harry’s heart, because it just makes him feel worse about himself. What exactly is he doing? Does he want to go out with Harry? Inside, he’s kicking himself. Bashing his head against a metaphorical wall.

He doesn’t know what to say. But staying silent isn’t helping things either. “That’s…that’s awful, Harry.”

_Oh well done. You might as well give him a bouquet of flowers and be on your merry way._

 “I know.”

“That won’t happen again to you. And if it does, I’ll personally throttle the guy who breaks your heart.”

Louis realises what he’s saying too long after it’s out of his mouth. He’s just done exactly what he didn’t want to do. He doesn’t want to hurt Harry.

Somehow or other, they’re right in front of Louis’ flat. Louis wants to run inside and hide in his room where he doesn’t have to deal with any of this.

Louis turns his head slowly to face Harry. “I didn’t mean that.”

 “Are you interested in me?” Harry blurts out.

Good question. Excellent one, really. Louis knows the answer immediately, because he doesn’t even need to think about it. Of course he’s interested in him; he probably has been since he first set eyes on him. But. Things aren’t that simple.  

He can’t put these feelings into words. Staring open mouthed isn’t helping either.

“I just…” He’s searching for an explanation for all of this. “I just don’t want to be in a relationship right now, Harry.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

Harry’s expression is painful to witness. “ _Complicated?_  Is that all you’re going to say?”

Louis feels the chill now, feels it sinking deep into his bones, sees it in Harry’s eyes.

Louis’ hand is reaching out for the door handle. He’s ready to launch himself into his flat, drag Niall from wherever he is, and cry with him together. It’s a good plan. He feels he’ll probably meet it.

“Harry, I’m…”

Harry shakes his head, silencing him. “It’s alright. It’s fine. We’ll stay friends. That’s fine with me.”

And he turns abruptly, marching back down the stone steps without saying so much as a goodbye.

It’s not fine. Louis knows this well. But he doesn’t want to lose someone who could potentially be good for him.

Louis doesn’t shout after him. He just watches him go.

*****

Louis doesn’t go back to his flat after Harry leaves him. For a few minutes, he stands there, feeling like the biggest twat imaginable.

He’s probably made Harry feel a lot worse. But there’s nothing he can do about it.

His mind shouldn’t become this way every time something like this happens, he shouldn’t think that the best place to go to make him feel better will be Zayn’s house. Louis has a brain, he really does, but sometimes he doesn’t think things through properly.

Today is one of those days.

He runs as fast as his feet can go. He doesn’t want to stop because if he does then he’ll turn back and go home. Niall might give great hugs, but tonight he is not enough to soothe Louis’ frantic heart.

Of course when Louis presses down on Zayn’s doorbell, the man opens it without a second’s hesitation. It’s like he  _knows_ that Louis will be there, wanting him to make things right.

Louis is crying. Or at least, he feels like he should be.

“Louis…” Zayn starts, but Louis doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to go through all the reasons why he can’t have Harry, why there’s no hope of building a relationship with him.

So he lurches himself forward and kisses Zayn right then and there.

They stumble back into Zayn’s flat, the door slamming shut behind them. Zayn’s kissing him back with as much fervour as Louis. It might be for different reasons, but Louis thrives on this connection.

But it’s not good for him; it’s seriously  _not good_ for him.

Zayn pushes him away just as they stagger into his bedroom. “What is this all of a sudden?” he inquires, brushing Louis’ hair away from his eyes. “Are you okay, Lou?”

Louis falters for a second. Common sense is beginning to push at the front of his mind. He thinks of all of the reasons why he shouldn’t be here. He knows that he can’t have Zayn; it’s been reiterated a thousand times to him. Zayn doesn’t want a  _relationship_. At least not with Louis. He knows this, but –

He keeps on coming back. Every time.

“I’m fine,” he lies. “I just want you to be with me tonight. Please.”

Zayn doesn’t say no, Louis wishes he would deny him at least once.

*****

“You’re not exactly allowed to be in here, you know.”

Niall’s standing in the middle of the teachers’ lounge looking like a lost puppy. He spots Louis lying on one of the couches and gives him a solemn look.

For a second Louis fears that Niall knows what happened last night.

“I have awful news,” Niall says, and he’s actually being serious for once. Louis doesn’t like that.

As the Irishman makes his way over, nearly tripping on one of the teacher’s feet as he does so, he’s gesturing wildly, his eyes set deep with worry.

Louis wants to play dumb. He might as well act like everything’s fine, for once.

“Is it the fact that you can’t get it up, because I think the whole vicinity knows that.”

Niall gives him the best glare he can make. It’s not very convincing. “No, Louis. And that’s not even funny. In fact, that’s just mean.”

“Aw did I hurt widdle Niall’s feelings?”

Niall’s standing right in front of him. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for Louis’ antics.

“We’re homeless, Louis.”

Louis snorts. “Aha. Very funny. That was good, actually.”

“I’m being serious.”

“No you’re not.”

“I  _am_.”

Louis frowns, locking eyes with Niall to see any hint of insincerity. It makes things utterly worse when he notices that Niall isn’t trying to ruin his afternoon. He is being serious.

Louis’ jaw drops at the realisation.

“WHY THE HELL ARE WE HOMELESS?”

The other teachers’ are glaring at him. It’s these kinds of moments that make him understand what it feels like to be back as a student.

Niall’s pulling at the sleeves of his jumper; it’s very close to fraying.

“You know…when I blew up the kitchen?”

“Yup, and don’t forget my room.”

Niall winces at that. “Well…we have to get it fixed. But the people I hired to fix it said that we would have to leave the flat in the meantime. They wanted us to leave the flat by yesterday.”

Louis’ eyes twitch. “By yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“You weren’t exactly home for me to tell you!” Niall retorts back, shutting Louis up.  

Of course, because where was he? At Zayn’s house. But he can’t admit to why he was there, or what he was doing. Niall would lock him up for life. Besides, Niall thinks that whatever is between the two of them is over. And it should be. It should have been done with  _ages ago._

“So what are we going to do?” Louis asks.

“Beg and plead everyone we know until we have a place to live in,” Niall says like he’s stating the obvious.

Louis groans. Fuck his life. And fuck every bloody person in it.

Niall plops down next to Louis on the couch. He stretches his legs out, nearly hitting Louis in the face with his feet.

“I do have some good news, though,” Niall mentions and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. Just a hint.

Louis nudges Niall’s legs off his stomach. “And what’s that, exactly?”

“Harry’s returned all your theatre supplies. Isn’t that great?”

Louis’ not sure whether that’s a godsend or a really bad omen.

*****

Harry’s left him a note with the rest of his theatre supplies. It reads:

_I thought you would want these back eventually. Sorry for taking them._

The words are practically dripping with sadness. It’s not like the note Louis had been given before, there’s no winky face emoticon or a  _Dear Louis_ greeting him as he reads. There’s nothing. Only words that don’t go beyond being  _just_ words. But what does he expect? Harry to keep on vying for his attention as if they were in some RomCom? He has to get real. He pushed Harry away, so he has to face the consequences. But he doesn’t want Harry to be so distant with him. He kind of likes the weird stealing guy.

“This is really fucked up,” he says aloud, scrunching the note up in his hands.

He needs to talk to Harry. He has to.

*****

“This place is out of limits for heartbreakers.”

Harry’s standing at the door to Music Room 1, his body taking up the whole space of the doorway so that Louis can’t get in without physically moving him. This doesn’t mean that he’s going to turn around and give up either.

“I’m not a heartbreaker.”

“That’s what all the heartbreakers say.”

Louis raises an eyebrow and huffs loudly. “Come on, Harry, just let me in. We need to sort things out.”

“Okay.  _You_  can sort things out in the hallway and _I_  will sort things out in my room. Capiche?”

He’s about to close the door on him and leave Louis standing by himself like an idiot. Louis isn’t going to let Harry do that, not this time. He grabs for the door handle just as it closes.

For a second all he sees is blinding pain.

“Jesus Christ!” He’s running around in circles holding his hand. He notices from the corner of his eye that Harry hasn’t closed the door. In fact, he’s grabbing at him, at his hand, with a concerned expression on his face.

“It’s really red,” Harry observes.

Louis’ shaking with pain. “It’s your fault for shutting the door on me.”

Harry scoffs, “It’s your fault for being so stubborn when I’m trying to forget about you.”

Harry’s still holding his hand, he’s holding on quite hard. Actually, he’s making the pain worse.

“You don’t need to forget about me. I still want to be friends with you,” Louis asserts.

He is aware that this isn’t what Harry wants. He’s not blind to the other man’s affections. But he doesn’t want Harry to think that he’ll just let him go. Louis will certainly not allow that.

From the way Harry is staring at him now, Louis thinks that he doesn’t want to let him go either.

“Fine,” Harry says, dropping Louis’ hand. “I’ll try. But I can’t make any promises about keeping my hands to myself when I’m around you.”

And Harry’s back to his usual self, it seems. Louis’ incredibly relieved.

Louis smiles. “And I’ll just swat you away if you try.”

Harry grins back at him. Louis’ thankful that he doesn’t have to see him upset anymore. He doesn’t want to see that kind of look on his face ever again.

There’s silence between the two of them for a while, but it’s not awkward at all. It’s comforting, it makes Louis feel better than he has in weeks.

Then something comes to mind. Something important.

Louis puts on his best face, and tries his might to look the cutest he can. He’s not trying to play on Harry’s feelings, he’s being diplomatic. That’s all.

“Harry?” he says, batting his eyelashes.

It’s like Harry knows he wants something. He’s smirking at him all knowingly. “Yes, Louis?”

“Do you by any chance have room for a few homeless teachers?”

Harry gapes at him. He obviously wasn’t expecting that.

*****

Niall nearly cries when Louis tells him his news. He also nearly knocks Louis off of his feet.

“Harry is the Messiah!” he exclaims, obviously pleased.

Louis rolls his eyes. He wouldn’t go that far.

Niall pushes himself off of Louis and beams at him like he’s the bloody sun.

“We’re not homeless anymore!” he yells running around the teachers’ lounge like the kid that he is. The maths teachers collectively kick him out.

Louis is just glad he’s happy.

*****

Zayn’s not in his office when Louis goes to find him at break. It confuses him why he’s not there, because that’s where he always is. He never goes to the teachers’ lounge, so for him not to be in his office is strange. Plus, Louis wants to share his joy in having found a place for him and Niall to stay.

He also wants to make sure that life is the way it should be. But deep down he’s also praying for change.

“Zayn?” he calls as he steps inside, inspecting the piles of papers on his desk and a telephone off of its cradle. There’s no answer from anyone inside. “Zaynie? You here?”

Louis walks deeper in and spots a door leading into another room. He opens it a fraction and stops himself from gasping in horror and giving himself away.

He understands who Zayn is; he understands that Louis isn’t the only person who can make him  _moan_ like that. He just didn’t want to see it; he wanted to be ignorant to it.

Zayn’s fucking some girl with bleached blonde hair. And that’s what makes it worse. Zayn isn’t with a guy but with a girl, he can’t possibly compare to that.

Louis stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over whatever is lying on the floor. But he has to keep quiet, he wouldn’t be able to bear it if Zayn saw him standing there, watching them. It’s freaky, and it would only highlight the fact that Louis is so not over him.

So he walks as quickly as he can away from the scene, deciding to forget about it. It’s fine if he does that. He’ll be fine.

He is so not fine.

He’s walking so fast that he doesn’t see what is in front of him. Louis doesn’t comprehend that he’s walked into someone until he feels warm hands wrapping around him, bringing him closer.

Louis’ trying to push away, he’s beating at them, but they won’t let him go.

“Louis.” They are grabbing his wrists. “Louis! Calm down!”

Louis’ head snaps up to meet greengreen eyes. He stops moving.

“I…” Louis’ biting back everything he really wants to say.

Harry glances around him, notices students and teachers alike staring at them with curiosity. He cups Louis’ face in his hands. “You’ll be fine, Lou. Just…come with me, for a while.”

Louis can’t argue. He doesn’t want to.

He lets Harry drag him along by the hand, lets him steer him away from Zayn and from the rest of the prying faces. He notes some of his students have seen this awfully embarrassing situation. He might get hell from them in his next lesson.

Louis’ fixated on his shoes. He doesn’t notice where he’s going.

Harry opens the door to Music Room 1 and takes Louis along to one of the music booths.  The booth is quite small with only one grand piano in the centre and a few guitars lining the walls.

“You can take a seat,” Harry gestures to one of the plush red seats in the small booth. Louis obliges.

This place is perfect for talking; it’s only them, and no one else.

Harry settles down near a piano, he brushes dust off the lid, opening it.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Harry asks.

Louis shouldn’t really let other people worry about him. But strangely enough he wants Harry to know. He’s the only person he’d be willing to tell it to.

“I just saw something I didn’t want to see. Now I feel like locking myself away and having a crying fest with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.”

Harry’s sympathetic, but he does laugh a little. His eyes crinkle up at the side. “I do that too. When something upsets me. I also come here, though.”

The best thing about Harry is that he doesn’t pry about things, he’ll listen to what Louis tells him but he won’t push for details. Louis is grateful for that.

Harry starts to play a few keys on the piano, low sounds chiming through the room. Louis’ mind goes instantly back to the time when he heard Harry sing, he thinks of his voice, lonely but beautiful. He really could listen to it all day.

“It’s nice in here. It’s very homey.”

Harry grins, his fingers moving fast across the keys. “I know. I like it a lot.” His eyes move up to meet Louis’. “Want me to teach you how to play?”

“Teach me? I don’t think so, I mean, I sucked at playing the recorder when I was a kid so…”

Harry is having none of it. “Louis. Sit here.” He puts a hand on the space between. The very small space.

Louis stares at Harry’s hand for a second, large and lean. Like the rest of him. He snaps out of it, shaking his head, standing up and making his way next to Harry. He slumps down, his side pressed against him. He was right. He is very close.  

“I seriously don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Shush. Music can be quite therapeutic, you know?”

Louis grumbles something intelligible underneath his breath. Harry takes hold of Louis’ hand, pressing it gently down on the piano keys.

“Set your hand out like this,” Harry instructs, while sliding his own hands through the gaps between Louis’ fingers. Harry moves his body closer to him. All of a sudden, he lifts Louis up, setting him down on his lap instead.

“Who said you could do that?” Louis looks behind him. The first thing he spots is Harry’s lips. All Cupid’s bow and a dusty pink. Louis is trying his hardest to look away.

Harry nudges him with his shoulder and Louis’ eyes go back to the keyboard. He starts moving his fingers, playing something that sounds silly and doesn’t exactly have a tune to it. But that’s not what is making him smile.

“See, you’re okay at it,” Harry presses forward, moving his hand to play something of his own. The sound is sweet; it brings butterflies to Louis’ stomach.

“It sounds like a whacked up rendition of Three Blind Mice.”

“Three Blind Mice is already whacked up. Have you heard the lyrics?” He starts to sing the words, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist, “ _Three blind mice, three blind mice, see how they run, see how they run; they all ran after the farmer’s wife, who cut off their tails with a carving knife…_ ”

Louis snorts. “And they call that a nursery rhyme?”

Harry shrugs. “Apparently so.”

It’s funny, but, Louis’ mind is completely clear when he’s with Harry like this. There are no awful thoughts about Zayn or that girl he was with. There’s just Harry and his hands, his eyes, his voice, his  _everything._ But why isn’t this enough?

Louis glances down to a tag attached to the piano. £12,000.

He really shouldn’t judge Harry for this, but he is a little interested.

“Harry,” he starts, “Did you steal this piano?”

Louis turns his body in Harry’s lap to face him. Harry doesn’t look sorry in the slightest.

“I’m borrowing it. It’s a temporary thing.”

“Right,” Louis replies, but what he’s most curious about is this:  _how on earth do you steal a piano?_

*****

Moving in to a new flat should not be difficult, really. It only involves a few strong lads helping to put heavy things in the right places. It’s not a difficult thing.

Still, Harry’s made it a difficult thing.

Since the truck came to drop off their stuff (and that was around an hour ago), Harry has taken four items of theirs and each time Louis has taken them back. It’s like an ongoing cycle.

“I can take them, can’t I? They’re going to be in  _my_ flat!” Harry rebukes when Louis has reprimanded him for his behaviour.

“You’re stashing them away in your room. That’s just uncalled for!” It’s safe to say Louis is at his last tether.

However, it’s not only Harry who has been a nuisance. Niall’s not being very helpful either. The Irishman had been sitting on Harry’s couch the whole time, watching some cooking show and demanding for everyone else to be quiet. So really, it’s only Louis who is doing anything productive here.

Louis had to do something. He had to call people who could be of use to him.

He presses Liam’s phone number immediately. That boy will help him, Louis’ certain of this.

 _“Hello?”_ Liam’s voice sounds exhausted on the other end.

“It’s Louis!”

_“Oh, hey, Louis. You alright?”_

“Yeah I was wondering if you could help me and my friend Niall move into Harry’s flat?” He glances around him and glares at Harry who is currently stuffing a wristband into his pocket. “They’re not being very helpful.”

_“I didn’t know you were moving in with Harry…But do I really have to come because I’m a little tired after yesterday’s workout and I…”_

“If you don’t then you’re not my friend anymore.”

_“What? Okay then I will. I’ll be there in 10.”_

Liam hangs up on him. Louis grins triumphantly at his success.

“Now for Zayn,” he says out loud. He tries to ignore the niggling feeling in his stomach.

He punches in Zayn’s number and brings it to his ear, waiting for a familiar voice to break through. It goes straight to voice mail.  _Hi there, I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now but I’m too busy getting laid. Aha, jokes. But seriously, call me back later!_

Louis doesn’t wait for the beep. He shuts down his phone without hesitation.

There hasn’t been a time before now that Zayn hadn’t answered his phone. Especially if it was Louis, usually he’d pick up as quickly as possible. This isn’t like him. It’s making Louis feel sick once again.

His hand drops, slipping his phone back into his pocket. For a few seconds he stands there, unmoving.

Harry’s suddenly behind him, pressing a furry stuffed animal to his face.

“This teddy bear wants Louis to smile!” His voice is as high as it can go. “Smile, pretty boy!”

Louis can’t help it, but he does smile for Harry. Harry presses the teddy bear’s nose up to his cheek. Louis tries his hardest to swat him away.

Harry’s wearing some weird looking denim overalls with nothing else underneath. Louis can’t help but observe his strong biceps and the tattoos across one of his arms. He also spots a few tattoos littered on his chest. Harry pushes his curly hair away from his forehead, the teddy bear still dangling from his hand. He looks like an overgrown child like this.

“I never knew you had tattoos,” Louis mutters.

Harry’s expression has gone beyond seductive. “That’s because you’ve never seen me naked, Lou.”

Louis goes speechless at that. Any words that he could say to follow that up are stuck at his tongue. He probably looks like a gaping weirdo. Harry is enjoying the speechlessness though.  

It’s Niall, however, who breaks the tension between them. “Harry, there’s this awesome pie I want to make! Is it alright if I use your kitchen?”

Harry calls back, “Yeah sure, go ahead Niall. Knock yourself out.”

“He’s going to knock all of us out. Then kill us. You don’t want to leave him alone in there,” Louis warns. Harry somehow doesn’t take him seriously.

Niall bounds off, skipping as he does. The last time anyone trusted him to cook for them (and that was Louis), the both of them had ended up homeless. Louis’ waiting now for the big explosion. Or maybe a crashing of breaking things. However, nothing comes. Yet.

The awaited bang is only heard when Liam’s running around the corner, and Niall has chucked something out of the window. It nearly hits his head.

“What was that?” Liam asks. His eyes are wide and terrified.

“Niall,” Louis and Harry say in unison. Louis looks at Harry from the corner of his eye to get his attention. The younger man puts an arm on his shoulder, leaning into him. Louis quite likes this arrangement.

*****

Louis really wants to hate this girl. So much. He’s glaring at her as she’s talking to him, but all she does is smile like she doesn’t realise what’s really going on.

Except, she doesn’t know what’s going on. And Louis is being a dick about it.

Her name’s Perrie. Apparently. Louis recognises her from when Zayn was fucking her. But he can’t exactly say that, can he?  

“It’s strange though,” she’s smiling sweetly at him, “I’ve never actually seen you around the school before.”

It’s weird that she’s not deterred. Most people would understand by now that he wants them to stop talking. Perrie keeps on talking like it’s okay to do so. And maybe in other circumstances it would be okay. Louis can’t help but be sour about the whole disaster.

“Did Zayn not mention me?” he asks. His tone is harsher than he wants it to be, “Strange. I am his best friend.”

Perrie teaches English, or that’s what she had told him somewhere through this conversation. She had ambled up to him when he was making some coffee in the teachers’ lounge, totally destroying his peace of mind. He was thinking about all of the work he had piled up for his next lesson. He was supposed to be stressing about it in peace.

She’s Zayn’s new ‘thing’. But maybe that wasn’t how she phrased it. Louis doesn’t want to include the word ‘relationship’ with Zayn and someone else. And Zayn doesn’t  _do_ relationships, or that’s what he told Louis.

The blonde girl falters at Louis’ remark. The smile fades a tad.  _Ha!_ Louis thinks,  _Serves you right._

Louis knows he’s being OTT about this. He can’t help it.

Perrie’s standing awkwardly in front of him; she looks torn between walking away and saying something. Louis wishes she’d get the hell on with it.

“He has, Louis,” Perrie says after a tediously long silence, “I was just hoping we could be friends though.”

Louis glances at her; he sees her hopeful expression, the sweetness that Zayn probably fell for. Louis exhales through his nose. He can’t do anything right, he can’t even hate a person right.

From Perrie’s tone of voice, Louis has a feeling that she  _knows._ He’s a bit uncomfortable with this; he’s not really sure how to process it.

“Alright then,” he finally gives in. “Okay, no hard feelings then. But I’m going to go get the cup of coffee I’ve been wanting for a while now. So, if you’ll excuse me.” He pushes past her, walking in the direction of the coffee machine.

He’s aware that those words didn’t come out quite right. He has to play nice, he knows that. It’s…just hard.

He presses the button for Americano, waiting patiently by the machine.

“You could at least try to be nice.”

Louis nearly jumps in the air at the voice. He snaps his head up to look at Zayn leaning on the coffee machine and staring at him.

“Sorry,” Louis mumbles inaudibly.

“She’s a lovely girl, Lou.” From his tone, it sounds like this time it’s serious. Louis blinks hard to keep himself in control.

“I’m sure she is,” Louis retorts, “I’m sure she’s positively  _great_  in bed.”

Zayn’s eyes go dark at that. “Louis…” he warns.

Louis can’t stop now. There’s warning signs going off in his head but he ignores them all. He doesn’t care. Zayn’s hurt him so many times and he’s always taken it like it was okay. It wouldn’t matter if Louis hurt him for once. Zayn probably wouldn’t even care.

“Yeah, you must really like her if you’re ready to have a relationship with her. Because you’re usually so adamant on screwing a person and leaving them alone!” Louis’ aware his voice is rising; he doesn’t want to attract attention to himself. He sucks his lip and avoids Zayn’s eyes.

“You’re acting like I’m breaking up with you, Louis! We broke up six months ago!”

That’s true, they did. And it was a horrible moment in Louis’ life that he had sworn never to think about.

Zayn’s putting as much distance between them as he can. He’s no longer leaning towards him; in fact, he looks like he wants to get away from him.

“I know we did. Of course I do.” Louis shakes his head. “But I…keep on crawling back to you.”

It’s his fault.  _It’s his fault._  He knows it deep down. This is the first time that Louis has admitted it out loud, especially in front of Zayn.

Zayn goes quiet at that, he’s no longer glaring at him with disdain. His expression has softened. For a second, Louis thinks he’s going to hug him.

“I really am sorry. I guess it’s my fault, too.” Zayn reaches out and squeezes Louis’ shoulder, attempting to be comforting.

Louis shrugs, glancing over his shoulder to where Perrie is watching them. It’s obvious he’s making a scene.

“No, it’s mostly me,” he drifts off, “I should have moved on by now.”

He thinks of a curly haired boy with bright green eyes and a toxic smile. He thinks of warm hands around his waist and a soft voice singing to him. He thinks of Harry.

 _Should have_ is the key word here.  _Can_ is different. Louis’ not sure if he can move on yet.

Zayn nods and picks up the coffee cup that is beginning to overfill with the black liquid. He places it in Louis’ hand as Louis wraps his fingers around it.

“You know I’m always your friend, Lou. I’ll help you with anything.”

“No,” Louis is smiling a tad. “ _Best friend_.”

*****

“Dear runts,” Louis announces in front of the entirety of the Drama and Theatre club. They’re all looking at him expectantly. “We’re going to be putting on a Christmas play!”

Louis’ been waiting for this since winter came around. It’s his favourite show of the year considering that he gets to have fun directing a brilliant performance as well as showing the school how great Drama is in general. He’s thoroughly excited to let it go ahead.

The children seem happy too, they’re all chatting too each other ecstatically.

“What play are we putting on?” One of the kids at the front asks – a Year Ten.

Louis knows his choice of play will not be taken well. As soon as he opens his mouth he’s ready for the rebuttal that it causes. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream!”

He was right, the kids are unhappy about it.

_“What? But that isn’t Christmas themed!”_

_“Can’t we do a Nativity play like every other school in London?!”_

Louis simply watches his club turn into chaos. But nothing is about to change his mind. He’s wanted to put a Shakespeare play on since he started teaching at St. Charles. It was only a matter of time until he got his way.

“No, we’re not doing a Nativity play! We’re not babies.” He looks towards a sniffling 11 year old at the front row  _at least not all of us are._

The children start to quieten down and accept that their teacher’s mind will not budge. They sit patiently on the floor, waiting for Louis to continue with his announcement.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a fantastic play. It’s funny, romantic – in fact; it involves a lot of love, people!” He does get a few interested looks at that. “As well as this, this year we have the music department helping us with scores and such…”

He turns his body to look at Harry Styles, who is twirling around a fountain pen in his hand. The man is wearing a green headscarf that matches his eyes. Harry smiles at him when he catches Louis’ eye, he steps forward, his hand trailing gingerly over Louis’.

Harry looks out at the children; they’re all staring at him goggle-eyed. “Yes, and I’m very intrigued to find out what it’s like to work professionally with Louis. It’s going to be great.”

Harry’s gaze drifts to Louis and there’s a brief smile on his lips that seems to hit Louis straight in the heart. He pushes himself closer to him, lips so close to his ear as he whispers, “I can’t wait to work with you.” And it’s not seductive in the slightest, it shouldn’t be. But the way Harry says it - his hand pressed into the small of Louis’ back - he makes it seem that way.

Harry pulls away and stands further to the side again. When Louis glimpses back at the kids, they’re all grinning at the two of them like hyenas.

*****

The day after the announcement of the play, Louis is greeted with a weird surprise when he enters his classroom.

There is something written on his board that he’s a hundred percent sure wasn’t there the day before. It reads:

_LARRY STYLINSON._

Louis’ not too sure what that means. He wonders at first if it is Harry’s doing, because the man is odd sometimes and this wouldn’t be a surprise. But then again, this isn’t really his style.

He tilts his head to look at the words, trying to decipher them but coming up with nothing.

He turns to his room of Year Eleven’s and frowns at their smirking faces.

 _Well. This is weird,_ he thinks.

“Does anyone know who wrote on my board?” he demands, the kids seem to shrug in unison.

Louis doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like this at all.

He walks up to the board, inspecting the chalk and the handwriting.

“What does ‘Larry Stylinson’ mean?” he asks aloud. Suddenly, all the kids are giggling.

A boy with dreadlocks at the back row slowly puts his hand up. Louis raises his eyebrows at him, giving him permission to talk.

“Can I ask, Mr. Tomlinson? Is Mr. Styles good in bed?”

The whole class bursts into manic laughter.

*****

“They wrote on my board!”

Louis is currently raging with Harry in Music Room 1. Except, it’s actually him who’s raging and Harry is playing some depressing tune on an acoustic guitar.

“They did?” Harry’s fingers land on a C chord. He glances up at Louis with a cheeky expression on his face. “Oops.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Harry places the guitar safely on his lap. “A few of them came up to me yesterday asking questions. I…”

“You  _what_?”

“I might have encouraged them,” and Harry’s giving him an innocently cute face that makes Louis’ insides flutter with recognition. But then he realises that he should be angry with Harry, not mesmerised by him.

For a while, Louis finds difficulty in forming the right words to chastise Harry. He’s only gaping at him, shutting his mouth each time he fails to say anything. It’s a bit of a difficulty.

“They asked me how you were in bed,” Louis enunciates slowly. Harry giggles at that. Somehow, it’s a very manly giggle.

The younger man raises his eyebrows. “So what did you say?”

 _Isn’t it obvious?_  “I said that we’ve never slept together because we’re not like that. And it’s no one’s business if we were.”

Harry’s face goes through a bit of a cycle as Louis talks. First, he’s disappointed. Then, he’s hopeful. And now, he’s licking his lips at him at the suggestion.

“I like the word ‘if’,” Harry picks up his guitar and starts to strum again, “It’s full of potential.”

Louis blinks at him. Once. Then twice. He’s left utterly speechless. Yes, the word does lead to many connotations. What  _if_ Louis could get over Zayn? What  _if_ he could fall for someone new?

But the word is only a possibility. It’s not a sure thing.

Louis snaps out of it when he notices Harry’s furrowed eyebrows and his concerned expression. He hadn’t realised he’d been zoning out.

“I don’t like it when you make that expression,” Harry grumbles, eyes glued to Louis.

“What expression?”

“The one that you make when you’re sad, when you think you can hide it from everyone else,” Harry stops playing for the second time and stands to his feet, pulling Louis towards him by his arm.

Louis’ trying to avoid him; he’s trying to look anywhere but at Harry. It’s ridiculous how well Harry can read him. They haven’t even known each other for that long a time yet.

He should really say something here. He shouldn’t just stand there like an idiot doing nothing.

Harry taps the bottom of Louis’ chin, forcing his face up gently so that Louis can’t look away. Louis tries to angle his eyes somewhere else, maybe at one of the instruments in the room, just not Harry. But he can’t. He’s taken in by him.

Logically, this would be the perfect moment to kiss. The kind of kiss you get when watching a romance film. Louis can imagine it too; he can see himself leaning in, breaking the boundaries between them once and for all and placing a chaste kiss on Harry’s lips. He thinks about doing it. But he doesn’t move.

“Mr Styles,” Louis’ voice is breaking. “You really do make things difficult.”

Harry’s eyes are smiling. If that is possible. He suddenly places a quick kiss on Louis’ cheek, and it’s not the same as what Louis was thinking of, but it’s still enough for Louis’ eyes to go wide and his heart to feel like it’s breaking.

“I’m sorry,” Harry hushes, “But I don’t really care.”

*****

 **[17:05PM] [Liam Payne]** to  **[Louis Tomlinson]** :  _Wanna meet up at the local gym l8tr? With Harry too??_

 **[17:12PM] [Louis Tomlinson]**  to  **[Liam Payne]** : no not really. only if you let me sit there and amuse you all.

 **[17:16PM] [Liam Payne]** to  **[Louis Tomlinson]:** _Deal._

*****

“I don’t want to go! Nigella’s on TV!” Niall’s currently hugging the couch as if his life depends on it. Louis’ trying to pull the Irishman, but he won’t budge.

“Isn’t she getting done for drugs?” Louis says and as he says this Niall turns himself around and hurls one of Harry’s plush pillows right at his face. Louis ducks as soon as it leaves Niall’s hand, it misses his hair by an inch. However, it does find a target.

Niall laughs hysterically at Harry’s taken aback face.

Louis looks over his shoulder at the younger man; he’s already wearing clothes suitable for the gym. Shorts that show strong legs and a loose shirt that exposes the top of his chest. He’s carrying a raincoat in his hand in preparation for the outside weather.

“Aren’t you going to freeze out there?” Louis says while looking at Harry’s…legs.

Harry shrugs and makes his way over to the couch, sitting on Niall’s feet as he drops down. Niall kicks up from his knees, but Harry continues to sit there idly.

Louis decides it’s a bad idea to keep on staring at Harry. A really bad idea. He knows from Harry’s hint of a smirk that he has noticed. He doesn’t want to do this again.

But Zayn told him to move on, and he really should. He should be accepting Harry’s advances.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Niall,” Harry says as Niall grins widely in response. He throws his hands up in the air and then collides his body with Harry, bringing him into his chest.

Louis’ hands clench at this. He bites his tongue so he doesn’t say anything stupid. He knows this feeling, he can’t believe it, but he’s  _jealous_.

He really has no right to be.

“You’re the best, Harry.” Niall finally lets him go. “I’ll make you something nice when you come back. Louis won’t be getting any.”

Louis sticks his middle finger up at him for that.

*****

Harry has made it his mission to look as sexy as possible. Or, that’s what it looks like.

As soon as they arrived at the gym, Louis decided to sit on one of the benches and play a game on his phone to pass the time. Every once or twice he’d butt into a conversation, or make some comment about how obsessed with the gym Liam appears to be. But he’s enjoying it. He’s enjoying seeing two very fit men exercise to the beat of the music.

Liam has a nice body. All muscles and abs. It’s nice to see, especially the v-line that appears just above his shorts.

Harry…well. Harry knows he looks good. Louis can see all of his tattoos on full display, the four nipples that he didn’t think were possible, the line of sweat that trickles down his throat.

For a second, Louis has this obscene image of licking Harry up and down. He  _almost_ grows hard at the thought of it. Almost.

“You’re not going to join in, Lou?” Harry suddenly appears in front of him, Louis looks straight at a butterfly on his stomach.

Louis blinks up at him. “I’m not really the gym-goer type.”

Harry pouts at this. “That’s a shame.” And he properly looks at him, gives him a proper once over as his eyes linger too much on certain places. It’s like his eyes are undressing him, then and there.

Louis shouldn’t encourage this, he really shouldn’t.

“You know what, there’s something else you can help me with,” Harry starts.

Louis raises an eyebrow. The nervous feeling in his throat is beginning to die down. Sort of. Or maybe it’s getting worse. “What’s that?”

Harry glances out of the corner of his eye at Liam, who is too busy on one of the treadmills to pay them any attention.

“Help me take one of the weights.”

Louis gapes at Harry, surprised by his request. “I’m not going to be your accomplice.”

“Yes, you are.”

Obviously Harry will not take no for an answer. Louis tries to think of a way to get out of this situation. There’s no other conceivable option.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Fine, what do we have to do?”

Harry is pleased by Louis’ submission. He swings a hand around Louis’ shoulder and pulls him to where the weights are. There are other people about. Louis has a feeling that this will either lead to imprisonment or embarrassment. Or maybe both. That’s likelier to happen.

Harry grabs one of the smaller weights and gestures for Louis to help him. Louis takes the other side and they both haul it out of the gym.

“Why aren’t people doing anything about this?” Louis asks.

Harry looks at him like it’s obvious. “You make people think something is normal and they believe it. It’s all about perception.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me steal something.”

“It’s not stealing. It’s borrowing.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, keep on saying that. Let’s see what the police say when they catch us.”

Louis isn’t worrying, he really isn’t. Harry is mad, that’s all. Maybe it’s catching.

They manage to hide the weight behind their backs until they’re out of the building and in the car park. It’s only when someone runs out of the building that Louis starts to panic.

“See!” he exclaims, “Do you see what I mean?!”

And not only that but they’ve also left Liam alone in there. Louis is an awful friend. Harry’s ten times worse.

The person is pointing at them, screaming something. Louis is breathing hard and fast.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry reassures him, “Just get to the car.”

Harry’s [insert car name here] is right in front of them. Louis’ sure he hasn’t walked so fast (with a very heavy object) in his life.

Harry opens the car boot and throws the weight into it. He pushes Louis forward, hand placed hard on his back as they rush into the car.

“I think I can hear police sirens.” Louis is struggling to put on his seat belt.

“S’only your imagination.”

Harry notices his difficulty and curves his body over so that he can grab Louis’ seatbelt for him. By doing this he is directly over Louis, no space in between. Louis can feel Harry’s shaky breath on his cheeks. He can smell his cologne and the faint trace of sweat lingering on him. It’s all too much.

Harry clicks the seatbelt in place and drives off like a maniac.

For a while Louis sits there, legs up to his chest and his gaze glued forward at the street in front of them. He doesn’t dare look back. And then, it finally hits. He finally starts laughing.

He doubles over, head pressed against his chest as his body shakes with laughter. “I can’t believe this…” His words are almost incoherent. “You…you’re nuts. Completely a hundred percent insane.”

Harry’s attention is fixed on the road but Louis can  _hear_ him smirk. “And isn’t it just wonderful?”

It is. It really is.

They’re outside Harry’s flat in no time. Louis is still silently giggling to himself. Harry gets out of the car first and walks around to his side. He opens the door and sets an open palm in front of Louis. Louis grabs hold of it as Harry hauls him out a little too strongly, and Louis goes flying into his chest. It makes the two of them stagger about a bit, like drunken fools, and it really feels like that. Louis’ so high on adrenalin and it really feels like he’s drunk, like he’s come out of a club with a really fit bloke and they’re about to go home together. That’s what it feels like. That’s what it  _should be like._

Louis is hysterical. Maybe all the shock has gone to his head. “I don’t think I can stop laughing,” he says, arms wrapping around Harry’s waist as he presses his face into Harry’s chest.

Harry pushes him away a little, and Louis’ giggles start to subside when Harry’s hands are pressed down on his shoulders, and Harry’s lips are on his own.

There’s a bomb that goes off in his head. Actual sirens screaming at him  _stopstopstopstop god stop._ He doesn’t care. Harry tastes so good, he kisses so well.

It’s not chaste and quick like Louis thinks it will be. Harry is biting at his bottom lip, forcing Louis’ mouth open so that he can lick into it, tongue exploring like a paintbrush on a canvas. Louis’ hands are wrapped tight around Harry, his fingers digging into his back. The kiss seems to last for decades. When it ends, Louis only wants more.

Except, Harry doesn’t continue. He smiles at him weakly, stepping aside so he can walk to the car boot. Louis watches him go, confused.

 “Are you going to help me out or not, Louis?” The younger man asks, cocking his head to the side.

He’s smiling but…it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

*****

It’s a week later and Louis is still thinking about that kiss.

But it’s not only thinking but it’s dreaming too. He’s dreaming about the scenario and waking up each time aching for Harry’s touch, for Harry’s lips. Louis’ guessed by now that Harry has him where he wants him. Or, that’s what he thought.

Louis is mad as hell when Harry goes out clubbing one night without him and brings home a douche-bag wearing a pompous outfit. And he was trying to sleep - badly yes - but at least he was trying.

He hears Harry’s laughter trickle in from the hallway at around 1AM. He stumbles out into Harry’s small hallway, rubbing at his eyes as he witnesses Harry being pushed into a wall with some guy’s tongue down his mouth.

Louis was tired and grouchy before, but now he’s awake and grouchy. It’s not really a good mix.

“Ahem,” he interrupts, hands on his hips.  

This makes Harry and the intruder part as quick as lightening. Louis doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, or what he should say to Harry next. The last time he properly talked to him was the night that Harry decided to kiss him. Louis was certain that Harry liked him, and just as he is beginning to like him too, Harry decides to pull away.

Well, whoever is watching over him must have a grudge.

Harry doesn’t even look sorry. He’s shocked yes, but there’s no remorse in his stunned expression. At least, there’s none that Louis can see.

“Lou,” Harry starts, “You should be asleep.”

Louis’ nose scrunches up distastefully. “And you shouldn’t be coming home this late with a stranger.”

The stranger in question – pompous guy, Louis decides to call him – steps forward with an accusatory finger. “You’re not his mother.”

“Shut up, pompous guy,” Louis snaps. He’s not in the mood. It’s too early and his head hurts from all of this thinking.

Harry’s wobbling towards him. So he’s drunk, too. He opens his mouth to say something, but Louis doesn’t want to talk.

He always reads everything wrong. He always thinks he knows what people are thinking when the truth can’t be any more different.

Louis holds a hand up to stop Harry from coming any closer. “No, it’s fine. I’m going to bed. Do whatever the hell you want.”

And he shouldn’t say that, he should make some grand gesture of his affection. He should try to get Harry to look at him properly again.

_You didn’t like my sad expression? Well, guess what – you’re now the cause of it._

*****

 Harry makes it a habit to bring round guys that Louis hates. Louis begins to wonder whether he’s doing it on purpose. Each one is worse than the last, too loud mouthed and too cocky. Louis has been secretly planning each of their demises.

After all of this, Harry hasn’t shown any remorse for what has happened. When they’re around their friends or teaching at college, Harry acts as if everything is peachy. It infuriates Louis.

Despite of this, the Christmas play Louis is putting on is going ahead successfully. Harry’s been writing the music without consulting him, but even so, he has faith that it will be fine. His students are working hard and he’s cracking the whip down on the whole thing so it comes out perfect. Or at least as perfect as he can make it. They’re creating the set one lunch time when Harry saunters in and starts to pick up some of their paint pots, forming a stack in his arms.

Louis marches over to him without a moment to lose. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

Harry hadn’t seen him coming, his voice sends all the paint cans catapulting. The colours fuse together on the floor, making an abstract piece of work and splattering on Louis’ (WHITE) shoes. He’s about to kill. He will kill. It won’t be pretty.

“I’m not…” Harry’s chewing his lip into his mouth. Louis can’t help but stare. “I need them for…something.”

“If you take them then you’re sabotaging the play. Which you are a part of, may I add,” he picks up the now empty cans, scowling at the state of the floor. “And have you even written the music for the show yet?”

Harry is upset, he can tell. There seems to be a permanent frown line stuck to his forehead. Louis wants to rub it away.

“I have…I mean, I’ve been busy, Lou.”

Of course he’ll sound endearing towards him to make it seem as if it’s all okay. Louis knows he’s busy, he hasn’t heard a peep out of him for such a long time. He’s too busy sucking other people’s dicks to talk to him.

Louis doesn’t say that though, even if he really wants to.

“Alright.” He clicks his tongue. “You’re not busy now, right? So you can clean up this mess for me, yeah?”

It’s not supposed to sound demanding or angry. Louis can’t help himself.

He turns away from Harry and becomes aware of all his students staring at him.

“Where’s your whip, Mr. Tomlinson?” One of the students shouts.

The class laughs but Louis and Harry are deadly silent.

*****

It’s snowing outside and the students are singing Christmas carols but all Louis wants to do is put a mute button on everyone.

He also wants to crawl into a hole and hibernate for the winter. That would be good.

Louis’ moping like mad and what’s made it worse is that Harry is going about life with the same cheery smile on his face. He’s the same as he always is. Playing music loudly in their flat until god knows what hour in the morning. Stealing things because he bloody well can. It feels like it’s only Louis that’s hurting.

The worse thing about this is that it’s like a round two of what happened with Zayn. This time, though, his chest hurts more than it had before.

Louis tries to hide away from the rest of the world – or at least Harry and anyone else who might try and talk to him – but his efforts are futile. Perrie (the girl who he is supposed to hate but actually doesn’t hate at all) finds him sitting alone in his classroom, knees cradled to his chest.

“Should I get Zayn?” she asks warily. Louis nods once in response.

It takes a matter of minutes for Zayn to burst through the door to see him. It’s not the same as it used to be, in the past Louis would be using Zayn to forget everything, to crawl back to him for comfort. This time, he doesn’t want that. He simply wants to be consoled by his best friend, and nothing else.

“Lou, are you alright?” Zayn’s voice is soft and soothing. Louis goes instantly into his arms.

“Why is it always me who falls in love with the wrong person?” he demands, but he knows Zayn can’t answer this. Only he can.

Although – love? Is that what this is? Yes, he likes Harry; he likes him a heck of a lot. It’s the first time he’ll ever admit out loud what he thinks about him. Love is such a strong word, but it fits Harry. He’s the only one he sees when he thinks of the word.

So he is in love with Harry, that realisation only makes it harder.

Zayn’s rubbing him on the shoulder. It’s calming Louis down a little bit.

“Are you talking about Harry?” Zayn enquires, but there’s a pained tone to his voice.  

Louis snorts, closing his eyes. “Is it that obvious?”

Zayn sits beside him on one of the chairs. “Well, yeah. I always thought that he kind of liked you too.”

“I thought so too…but he’s so confusing. He says and does things that I can’t understand. He makes me think he likes me. And then he just…stops  _trying_.” Louis’ voice stumbles at this. His eyes are stinging but he knows what is happening now. He’s such an idiot, really. Maybe they both are.

He shakes his head, wrenching his hands through his hair. “God – what the hell.”

Zayn doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. But it’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t know.

Louis didn’t want to be in a relationship, he had said this to Harry. He’d never told him that he changed his mind. Never made it clear what he was thinking. And now, this has happened. He has to be right.

“I think I know where I’ve gone wrong,” Louis lifts his head up to face Zayn. “I just have to make him look at me again.”

And he won’t let Harry look away. 

 *****

 

“Get out.”

Niall’s narrowing his eyes at him. He’s standing at the edge of the apartment’s door, one leg in and the other out.

“But why?” his friend demands all pouty and upset. “I was going to make us something nice.”

Yes, and that’s what Louis plans to do for Harry. So he doesn’t need anyone else ruining it.

“That’s lovely of you, Niall, you know how much I appreciate it but you have to leave tonight,” Louis is almost begging, “Just go to Zayn’s…or something.”

Niall’s hands are on his hips. He isn’t taking Louis’ hints. Louis doesn’t want to admit what his plans are, he doesn’t want anyone to sabotage it all, but Niall’s being far too stubborn.

“I don’t understand. You’re not kicking out Harry!” Niall throws his hands up in the air with all his Irish fury.

Louis stares at him. Simply stares.

He’s going to have to make it clear for Niall. For crying out loud.

Louis drags Niall out of the door by his arm, as he yelps in response, wriggling in his grip, but Louis won’t let go.

“Please.” He grabs onto Niall’s wrists. “I’m trying to woo a certain person tonight so please go somewhere else. If you do I swear I’ll make it up to you!”

Niall goes limp in Louis’ grip, he stops his wriggling. His eyes are blown wide for a few seconds before his expression changes into a full grin. He nods his head, finally understanding what Louis is trying to tell him.

“Ah, I see.” He places his thumb on his chin. “You’re trying to get in Harry’s pants. Yes?”

 “Don’t say something like that out loud. And no I’m not trying to…”

Louis is faced with Niall’s judgemental stare.

“…Get into his pants.”

Niall punches him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re such a liar, Louis.”

Louis is biting so hard down on his tongue to stop himself from swearing.

“Just go away!”

Niall holds his hands up defensively. “Fine, alright! I’m going.” He starts to walk away before turning back and winking at Louis. “Remember to use protection!”

Louis’ glad that Harry isn’t in because he’s sure he would have heard that.

*****

Nothing has been burnt. Although, Louis doesn’t want to jinx himself. Harry’s out at the gym and won’t be back for another hour, which means he has enough time to get everything sorted for this meal he’s making. He wants it to be as romantic as possible so that it will spell out to Harry what he wants to say. And maybe that way, they’ll get somewhere.

He’s making something very simple and not too extravagant because unfortunately, he’s not a professional chef and he doesn’t have a lot of ingredients to make anything like that. Louis opts for an easy dinner, except with his own touches here and there. He doesn’t usually cook, ever, and that’s what makes the whole thing harder. He’s already got the chicken in the oven (chicken wrapped in parma ham with melting cheese inside) and all he needs now is to sauté the vegetables to get it sorted. He does this quite quickly, humming a tune underneath his breath.

It’s all going fantastically well, and Louis can’t quite believe his luck. He’s even got a lovely bottle of Pinot Grigio in the fridge that he pours for himself and for Harry. He sets out two candles, lighting each one and watching the flame flicker and come to life. He’s finishing setting out the plates (knives and forks included) when he hears the unlocking of the front door and Harry’s footsteps entering the apartment.

Louis is suddenly very nervous, his heart has somehow made its way to his throat like it wants to leap out and escape. Louis stays perfectly still, waiting for Harry to walk into the kitchen and see what is in store for him.

As Harry rounds the corner, he frowns at the food on the table, and as his eyes drift up to Louis, he looks torn between surprise and wonder.

“Louis, what…”

Louis is thankful that Harry’s alone tonight. He’s so glad that he doesn’t have to see another man with him. He has Harry’s undivided attention this way.

“I’ve never really shown my gratitude for…you letting me stay here.” It’s not exactly what he wants to say, but he feels like it’s enough.

Harry exhales a shaky breath, eyes examining everything – from the chicken and the wine to the candles and to Louis.

“I guess you want me to take a seat?” Harry peers up through his lashes at Louis. The older man nods quickly.

They both take a seat on opposite sides of the table. From the dim lighting and the music gently playing in the background, it’s all very intimate.

Louis knows that Harry is uncomfortable with this. He can tell by the way he’s squirming in his seat as if he wants to leave the room but he can’t.

Harry picks up a fork and knife and digs into the food prepared. His expression changes into one of delight as he glances back at Louis. “This is actually really good.”

“Did you not think it was going to be?” Louis questions, taking a bite out of his own meal. He’s right, it is good. He must have been blessed by whatever God is up there tonight.

“No, of course not. Whatever you do always turns out to be wonderful.” As soon as Harry says this, he blushes scarlet. “Um, I mean…”

“What?” Louis says, but he’s urging him to say what he really thinks. He wants him to admit that this feeling really does flow both ways and he’s not being stupid or reading too much into the situation.

Harry takes a sip of the wine, avoiding his eyes. “It’s just…great.”

And that’s not enough. Louis can’t handle Harry being reserved, doesn’t want to play this game of chase until he finds himself exhausted and unable to play anymore. He’s sure Harry wants him; he feels it in his gut.

 Louis’ hands clench into fists. He suddenly rockets upwards, making the table shake in the process. Harry’s head snaps up in surprise, he doesn’t even comprehend what is happening until Louis’ grabbing at his shirt, wrenching him up so that their lips are pressed together.

And of course, Harry kisses back.

 

Louis slides himself onto Harry’s lap, legs dangling over either side of him. His hand is still clasped around the younger man’s shirt but his other hand is trailing down, settling over Harry’s crotch. He starts to palm him through his jeans, feeling intoxicated every time he hears that loud and breathy moan in his ears. He’s licking into Harry’s mouth, taking everything he can get but wanting more. He wants to hear what Harry can do, how high his voice might go if his hand were to slip underneath his jeans and  _properly_ touch him, no barrier in between. His hands fumble on the button of Harry’s trousers. He’s terribly disappointed when Harry’s hands start to push him away.

“Stop, Louis,” Harry orders.

Louis doesn’t want to, can’t even think of the idea of stopping when he’s gone this far. He’s grinding down on Harry, and the moans are becoming louder and Harry’s hands are loosening on Louis’ own.

“I said stop it!” Harry shouts and suddenly Louis’ world is being turned upside down and instead of being on Harry’s lap, he’s sprawled on the floor, dazed and so incredibly confused.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t mean to push you like that…”

Louis’ eyes are watering. He wills himself to keep it in.

He’s up on his feet in no time, running out of the room as fast as he can.

Louis vaguely hears Harry call for him, hears him shout his name over and over. He chooses to shut everything out rather than let it all sink in.

*****

Once he’s processed what has happened, he no longer feels like a broken mess.

Harry is no longer in their flat, Louis doesn’t know where he is, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

He slowly makes his way downstairs to the kitchen and digs out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. He sits with it in his lap on the couch as he reaches for his phone, dialling the first number that comes to mind.

“Hey,” he says as the number connects, “I need you right now.”

*****

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Zayn says, shaking his head.

Liam’s frowning too, his concern is very flattering. “Yeah, I know for certain that Harry likes you.”

Louis’ been told this so many times, but nothing happens to prove it. He takes another large spoonful of his ice-cream, dunking it all into his mouth.

“How could you possibly know that?” Louis asks around a mouthful of ice cream, he’s certain that he looks quite disgusting what with the tears and the ruffled hair and the ridiculous amount of ice cream he’s consuming.

Liam takes a seat beside him, an arm tossed around his shoulder. Zayn does the same, letting Louis lay his head down on his chest. This is the first time that Zayn and Liam have really met in person, but they’re getting along as if they’ve known each other for a long time. Louis is grateful that they can do this while looking after him.

Liam deposits the tub of Ben & Jerry’s down on the floor. “I know, trust me. He was obsessed with you from the moment go.”

Louis snorts. “Stop lying to me, Liam. It’s mean.”

“I’m not lying. He wasn’t even going to take the job at St. Charles; it was a back up option. But when he saw you, he suddenly changed his mind. It was St. Charles or nowhere.” Liam’s words are supposed to be reassuring, but Louis still can’t believe it.

Harry had pushed him away and he was supposed to believe that? It didn’t make any sense at all.

But. If he were to believe it, then what could he do? He couldn’t just let go so easily like it was okay. Besides, if he lets things stay as they are and he and Niall go back to their apartment, he’d lose contact with Harry permanently. The idea of that sickens him to the bone.

He’ll just have to keep on chasing after him, even if the road becomes impossible, he has to keep on running after him. He can’t stop.

*****

 “You have got to be kidding me!”

Louis is stressed out to the max. Not only is his relationship with Harry going to hell but so is his beloved play.

It’s the night of the first showing of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and he’s both without a Titania and a Nick Bottom.

And Harry of course is as far away from him as possible. He’s sorting out the musicians at the front, his back to Louis. 

“Do we have any understudies for them?” Louis asks the nervous Year 10 in front of him. The girl shakes her head.

Louis is starting to freak out here. No understudies, no bloody actors and the show is in a few hours. This is too much for someone with a fragile heart to handle.

He glances back towards Harry and an idea comes to mind like a light bulb coming to life.

“I’ll be right back,” he informs his student, pushing through the crowd of people towards Harry.

He knows how this is going to turn out. It’s going to be so very awkward, but there’s nothing he can do. However, Harry can’t deny him this request; he has to go along with it for the good of the show. But. Maybe Louis can use this to his advantage. He knows full well what he’s planning on doing.

“Harry,” he calls, urgent but sure of himself.

Harry spins around and staggers at the sight of Louis. “Um, Hi, I’m a bit busy right now with…”

Louis interrupts him. “I don’t care, just come with me.”

His eyes are stern and demanding, he’s making sure that Harry doesn’t look away. Harry sighs and follows Louis away from the crowd of musicians and actors alike.

Louis only stops walking when they’re out in the hallway with no one else about. It’s the perfect place to talk.

He’s pacing, biting his fingernails. “I’ve been told we haven’t any actors to play Titania or Nick Bottom. The only thing that we can do is play the parts ourselves.”

Harry’s jaw slacks. Maybe that wasn’t what he was expecting. “We? You want me to act?”

“Yeah, you play Nick Bottom and I’ll play Titania. I’ll make sure you don’t have to say too much. We’ll just adlib the fuck out of it.”

Harry shakes his head. “But Nick Bottom is in more than one scene, Louis! And I can’t act.”

Louis can see Harry is panicking. His strong and protected stance has broken, and he’s slumping over, as if he wants to sink himself into the floor. Louis will be okay with playing Titania, he knows the lines, but Harry…this is going to be harder for him.

He decides to take a chance here. Damn to hell any wariness or anxiety about Harry. He doesn’t care if he pushes him away. He can’t this time.

Louis grabs hold of Harry’s hands, holding them in his own. “I believe you can do it.  _I_  have faith in you.”

And there’s more to it than what he’s saying. The words  _I love you_ are written in the way he holds Harry tight, the way his eyes are unwavering and sure of what he’s saying. His faith goes that far and he wants Harry to know this. He wants Harry to see all these emotions reflected in his eyes.

Harry bites his lip, green eyes clouded with an emotion that Louis hasn’t seen before. “I know you do,” he says and there’s a hint of a smile to his voice. “You always do.”

*****

Playing Titania means having to cross-dress. Louis realises this far too late.

The costume for the part has been intricately made by the Textiles department. It’s a lovely white gown, soft to the touch and reminiscent of a ball gown from the Georgian era. Louis admires it once he sees it but then he remembers that he has to wear it. His pride is officially going out the window after this show.

He’s standing in the mirror looking at his reflection. He turns left and then right, and fiddles with the long brown wig fixed to his hair. He doesn’t look like a girl at all, but he doesn’t look like his usual self either.

He hears someone whistle from behind him and stops dead. It’s only Zayn.

“You do look amazing in that,” Zayn admits, his back resting on the wall opposite Louis.

Louis fixes the dress one more time and turns away from the mirror. “Of course I do,” he smirks.

“It’s going to be interesting to see what Harry does when he sees you wearing that,” Zayn winks at him.

Louis doesn’t think anything will really happen. But tonight is one way to get close to Harry. Titania was in love with Bottom, even if it was only an illusion.

Harry’s getting changed at the moment too. He’d been using as much time to learn his lines as possible. Louis had heard through the grape vine that he was planning on singing his lines. Louis is okay with that, he likes the sound of Harry’s voice.

“I don’t know about that,” Louis replies shyly to Zayn’s statement.

Zayn pushes himself off of the wall and ambles over towards Louis. When he places a quick kiss on Louis’ cheek, it’s not the same as it used to be. Louis doesn’t feel a terrible ache or a want to be closer to Zayn. It’s a kiss from a friend, and Louis doesn’t want anything more than that.

“You’re going to be brilliant,” Zayn pats his cheek as Louis glares at him, he laughs in response. “You’re going to stun them, babe.”

And Louis hopes he’s right. He wants to stun them all.

*****

_“What angel awakes me from my flowery bed?”_

The lights are cast down on Louis’ figure splayed across artificial flowers. From the corner of his eye, he sees Harry making his way to the stage wearing a crazy looking donkey head. Louis tries his might to stifle a laugh.

As Harry stands opposite him, his breath falters. Louis can’t see his facial expression, but he knows from Harry’s breaking voice that he’s taking Louis all in.

Harry starts to sing, his voice clear and beautiful, it’s just as Louis remembers it. The younger man sits beside Louis on the flower bed, his hand intertwining in Louis’ own.

 _“I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again,”_ Louis, no, Titania says, hand touching delicately at the muzzle of the donkey’s head.

Louis knows that Harry is nervous; he can feel his hand shaking in his own. But he’s doing so well; to the audience he must look perfect.

 _“Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.”_ And Louis means it; he’s not saying it only because it’s part of the script. He’s saying it because he truly means it.

He inclines his body further towards Harry, the dress moving like waves as he does. “You are, though,” he whispers, the words are reserved only for Harry.

Louis knows he shouldn’t say things like that when they’re in the middle of a performance. It makes Harry’s next few lines a little wobbly and hard of hearing. Louis finds he doesn’t care.

He lets go of Harry’s hand and moves his own to either side of the donkey head. This isn’t in the script; in fact, it’s too early for it to happen. But his mind isn’t computing properly, it isn’t telling him to stop.

He pulls the donkey’s head off, watching as he sees Harry’s chin, his lips, his nose, his eyes and lastly his crazily tousled dark hair.  

Harry’s hair is as wild as it has ever been and his eyes are blown wide.

 _“And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;_  
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,  
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,  
And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;  
And I will purge thy mortal grossness so  
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.”

Louis watches Harry’s shocked eyes. His stunned but lovely expression. He leans in without a second’s thought.

It’s the third kiss they’ve shared so far, but Louis feels that this one is the best he’s ever had. It’s fuelled with passion, one quick kiss that tells everything that Louis feels, all that Louis wants from Harry. The younger man himself is shocked to begin with, unmoving in his arms, it’s only before a stagehand shouts at them that Harry kisses him back quickly, and they both pull away.

The audience is staring at them. Louis recovers as fast as he can and the show continues.

Harry’s a little out of it throughout the performance, though.

*****

The curtain drops and Louis is dying to run over to Harry and drag him off the stage with him. But when he looks over his shoulder to see the younger man, he’s not there. Louis is not pleased about that.

He doesn’t just want to find Harry so they can continue that snog fest they had on stage, but he also wants to congratulate him on his great performance. Harry had been so nervous the whole time, but he had been fantastic. If only he would stay in one place and not run away from him, then Louis would be able to express his feelings.

So, Louis’ running after him, bounding down the stairs of the stage as he passes his students all huddled together and giving each other high fives. At some point he passes Zayn and Niall coming up to greet him, but he’s not going to be stopped. He pushes past them, leaving them behind him. He only has one goal. He cares about nothing else.

Louis doesn’t really have any idea where Harry is going to be. But he has a hunch on one place only.  

He’s greeted by the little Harry drawing on Music Room 1. He smiles at it; it really is a cute drawing.

Louis doesn’t knock like he should do, even though that would be polite. But then again, he’s never been one for etiquette. He rushes into situations without consulting the pros and cons. Most of the time this has hurt him. But with Harry, he knows it will be more of a help than a hinder.

He bursts through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Harry’s still in his Nick Bottom costume. He’s standing in the middle of the room, running a hand down his face. He appears to nearly have a heart attack when he spots Louis.

“Louis…what are you…?” Harry is as red as anything. Red as a poppy. Red as a rose.

He’s fixated on what Louis is wearing, that’s what it is. Louis can practically feel his eyes trailing over the dress and over Louis’ body. He shivers at the thought.

Louis stomps over to Harry, pushing him onto one of the red couches in the room.

He’s straddling him, Louis’ dress is bunching up over Harry’s thighs and he knows that Harry can feel him on his leg, hot and needy and wanting him so bad.

“I want you to kiss me.”  He bites down on Harry’s neck, creating an angry love bite. “I want to suck you off so I can hear those beautiful moans of yours.” At this, Harry’s mouth drops and there it is – that lovely sound. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight.” He grinds himself down on Harry and it’s everything he’s always wanted and more.

Harry’s eyes are lidded and his breathing has become uneven. “But,” he’s choking on his words, “But you don’t  _want_  a relationship.”

Louis was right after all. This mess was caused by him, by his stupid words and by his own selfishness. Harry saying this to him now sounds preposterous in his ears, because why wouldn’t he want to be in a relationship with Harry? There’s nothing else he wants.

“I do,” Louis says and he leans in close, breath teasing on Harry’s lips. “I didn’t want to, at a point. But, it has to be you. There’s no one else I want to be with.”

Harry exhorts a shaky sigh. He laughs heartily, his eyes crinkling. “Good, because I only want you too.” With that, he pushes Louis by the back of his neck, as his wig falls off revealing his real hair, and his lips are forced to Harry’s own.

So they’re kissing, mouths open and their breaths are hot and heavy. Louis’ hands are exploring every part of Harry he can get. He’s pulling at Harry’s hair, threading his fingers in Harry’s curls. He loves that every time he pulls Harry moans in response. Harry is touching him too, his hands are at his waist, beginning to move up to the corset of his dress, itching to take it apart. Louis hates the barrier of their clothes, although seeing Harry in this costume is endearing, he would much rather see him naked.

Harry pulls away for a second, his eyes clouded with a predatory glaze. “God, Lou…I want…”

Louis’ hand is on Harry’s crotch palming through his jeans in a steady motion. “What do you want, Haz? Tell me.”

“I want  _more_.” Louis is on the button of Harry’s costume before the boy can finish his sentence.

It’s kind of rude that Louis is still in this dress while he’s unzipping Harry out of his costume, but there’s not exactly time to worry about the matter.

Together, they manage to pull off the bottom of Harry’s costume. Louis’ quite surprised when he’s met with Harry’s slightly pink and perfectly hard cock instead of boxers.

“Commando, Harry?” he smirks.

Harry chews down on his lip. It’s the sexiest thing Louis has ever seen.

Louis doesn’t wait for Harry to respond (even if he does – he’s too preoccupied with watching Louis) he touches Harry’s dick before bending down to his knees.

He begins with lightly sucking the head of Harry’s dick and licking circles around it, eyes drifting up casually to see Harry’s slacked mouth and his scrunched up eyes. He’s going slowly – maybe painfully slow. At one point, Harry has enough of his teasing and grabs onto the back of Louis’ hair, pushing him further forwards so that his cock is deeper in Louis’ mouth, it merely misses the back of his throat. He doesn’t gag though, he just takes this as a challenge and sucks harder, his head bobbing to a rhythm of his own, listening in to Harry’s moans, his breathy tone of  _louislouislouis._ Louis is vaguely aware about how hard he is underneath his dress and he starts palming himself, locking eyes with Harry as the both of them come together in a sticky but lovely mess.

Louis swallows Harry’s come easily, licking his lips as he crawls back onto the couch, back onto Harry’s lap. Harry’s hands instantly go around his waist, pushing Louis towards him so that his back is pressed up against Louis’ chest.

“I think it would be nice if you wore that dress when I fuck you,” Harry whispers in his ear. Louis swears he’s gone hard again.

*****

Louis is back to kissing Harry as the door to Music Room 1 is kicked open by none other than Niall Horan.

“Jesus!” The man in question remarks, looking from left to right and back to the door again in confusion.

Harry parts from Louis, turning his head a fraction towards Niall. “No, just us.”

It’s a second later until Zayn and Liam filter into the room. Zayn’s eyes soften as they focus on Louis and he’s walking towards him at a fast pace, dragging Louis off of Harry and hugging him tight.

“I’m so happy for you,” Zayn congratulates him. Louis’ dress has rode up to his calves. It’s a bit embarrassing.

Louis really appreciates this though. He would never have dreamt of this scenario a few weeks ago, in fact, the idea would have been impossible. His ex – whatever he is – is congratulating him on getting together with a gorgeous and lovely boy, finally life is going the way he wants it to.

Of course, Harry doesn’t understand the situation. Louis can see him glaring at Zayn as if he wants to take his head off his neck. Louis pushes Zayn away at this realisation, patting his friend awkwardly on the back. “Thank you,” he says.

Harry is pulling at Louis’ arm, pulling his body towards him. “What was that about?” he asks. Louis chooses to ignore the question.

Niall’s broken out of his stupor. He’s grinning at Louis like a banshee. “You’re plan succeeded, hey, Lou?”

Louis decides he both hates and loves his friends.

*****

 **[20:00PM] [Louis Tomlinson]**  to  **[Harry Styles]** : i think we should have a Xmas party.

 **[20:02PM] [Harry Styles]**  to  **[Louis Tomlinson]** :  _you just want an excuse to dress up as a sexy elf and harass me._

 **[20:03PM] [Louis Tomlinson]**  to  **[Harry Styles]** : you’ve read my mind!!!!

 **[20:03PM] [Harry Styles]**  to  **[Louis Tomlinson]** :  _just come downstairs and kiss me, fool._

*****

“He said sexy elf, Niall, not a damn olive!”

Louis is digging himself a hole here. He really is.

Niall is holding out the costume to him with a grimace on his face. He’s obviously not very happy about Louis’ outburst. “I don’t understand why you agreed to do it if you’re going to be like this.”

Harry had brought it up in passing and at the time Louis thought  _well why not_  and that’s why he’s currently in this fiasco. Besides, it’s Christmas not bloody Halloween.

As well as that, it’s his birthday in a couple of hours. Yikes.

Niall stuffs the costume in Louis’ face. “Just put it on and I’ll fix it manually.”

Louis’ eyes go wide at that. “But you’re a technician, not a costume designer.”

Even though Louis would like to put a wide berth between him and Niall and his scissors, he does what Niall says. No one else is around to help him. He slips the costume on and it’s not awkward at all for Niall to see him in nothing but his boxers for a second. Niall’s cool like that.

Niall looks at Louis in the [olive] costume and all but face palms. “Oh god, you do look like an olive.”

Louis wants to tear the costume off and make Niall wear it. “Thanks, Niall. Really. Cheers.”

Niall grabs at the top of the costume. He hums. “I think I know what we can do. You’re going to knock Harry off his feet.” Louis’ relying on the man who burnt down his first apartment (or just their kitchen and his room really) to make sure he has the best night possible. He’s in capable hands, maybe.

Niall gets to work and Louis mostly stands there waiting for Niall to pull away and tell him he’s done. At one point, Niall goes off to fetch something and comes back with these ear pieces that look especially weird. His friend sets them on the top of his ears, making Louis’ ears look pointy. After a few more minutes, Niall pats him on the shoulder and wolf whistles.

“If I wasn’t straight and you weren’t with Harry I’d totally bang you right now,” Niall compliments, pushing Louis over to a mirror.

Louis gives Niall a distasteful look. “Ew, Niall. Gross.”

Niall nudges him on the shoulder, gesturing for him to look in the mirror. Louis does just that.

Surprisingly, Niall has done a pretty good job after all. He’s made the weird costume very tight fitting, tight all over. Instead of long trouser bottoms, Niall has turned the first part of the costume into a green playsuit, cutting off at Louis’ knees so his thighs and calves are exposed. Underneath that is a red button-up shirt of a velvet quality, Louis finds if he moves his arms back too far the buttons might pop off.

Louis inclines further forward towards the mirror, inspecting himself closer. And there it is – the elves ears.

“Seeeee?” Niall sings, “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

Louis grins while hitting Niall playfully on the arm.

*****

Louis is an hour away from being twenty-five. The idea of it is beginning to scare him.

Their apartment is buzzing with energy, music echoing through the halls combined with the natter of the people inside. Louis is aware of the stares he’s getting as he walks by. He does stick out like a sore thumb in this outfit. Except, he doesn’t care. He’s dressed like this especially for his Harry’s benefit. Anyone who wants to judge him can go stuff it.

Although. He doesn’t know where Harry is.

Louis’ been searching for him in and out of every room and he knows that he’s somewhere in this apartment. It shouldn’t be too hard to find his (boyfriend) but for some odd reason he’s struggling.

He walks into the kitchen and witnesses Perrie and Niall doing handstands against his wall, challenging the other to stay up the longest. Louis would usually stick around to try and sabotage Niall’s chances. He moves onto the next room.

The sitting room is full with more people than the kitchen. Louis can see Zayn and Liam chilling on one of their couches. Zayn is passing a cigarette to Liam while the other boy chokes on it, the crowd laughs at the exchange.

And then –

Harry’s surrounded by so many people, he’s telling some joke (that’s not funny in the slightest, but that’s what Louis assumes) and his eyes are crinkled at the sides in his own amusement. His gaze catches Louis and he stops talking to the boys and girls around him. He’s checking Louis out from the tight button-up to the playsuit exposing his legs. Louis wishes everyone else would disappear so that it would only be him and Harry left. And then they could fuck without worrying about the noise. It’s a lovely idea.

Harry excuses himself from his crowd of people, pushing his way towards Louis. Louis’ legs have gone dead. He stays where he is as he watches Harry’s eyes, fixated on him and nothing else.

A second later and Harry’s in front of him. Louis smashes their lips together in a second. The party moves around them like shimmers of shifting light. Louis’ possessed by Harry’s taste, his smell, the way his hands are just above his bum before they drop further and  _squeeze._ And oh, is it perfect.

“Are you trying to kill me, Lou?” Harry presses a kiss to Louis’ jaw. “You’re so hot.”

Louis moves his head back to allow Harry more access. Harry’s kissing down his neck, placing one sharp bite on his Adam’s apple. Louis would like to freeze time.

“You wanted this.” Louis presses his hands on Harry’s chest. “Now give me what I want.”

“And what’s that?” Harry cocks his head. He’s the picture of innocent. But his eyes are dark and laced with desire.

Louis pulls Harry forward by his hair, yanks it as he all but  _snarls._ “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me in this outfit. Fuck me until I am screaming.”

Harry exhales heavily. He nods, his hand intertwining in Louis’ own. He guides Louis away from the crowds, up to Harry’s room. Suddenly Harry lifts Louis up, carrying him until they get to Harry’s bed. He throws Louis onto the mattress, crawling onto him as they kiss harder and more desperate. Hands are everywhere. Louis brings Harry closer to him by his neck, arms wrapped around him, licking into his boy’s mouth. Harry’s hand is pressed on Louis’ crotch, eliciting a sound that Louis didn’t believe he could make out of his mouth.

“Off,” Louis orders, “Clothes should be off.”

Harry nods, agreeing to his demands. He stumbles back a little, dragging off his shirt and tossing it to the floor. Louis is doing the same but he’s naked before Harry is, the boy is taking too long with his skinny jeans. Louis snorts and helps him pull the jeans off of his legs, along with his boxers, and the two of them are sitting on Harry’s bed stark naked.

“Nice body,” Louis admires.

Harry smirks. “You too.”

“I think you should…” Before Louis has finished his sentence Harry’s hand is around Louis’ dick and his pumping him to this rhythm, up and down, slow and agonizing. Maybe it’s payback for every stupid move Louis’ ever made. Maybe it’s because Harry just likes to see him squirm.

“Faster,” Louis puffs out and Harry does exactly that.

And then Louis’ so close, he’s about to come when Harry stops him, holds the head of his dick in a tight grip.

“Don’t,” Harry growls at him. Louis has to use all his willpower not to come then and there.

Louis furrows his eyebrows at him and watches Harry turn him around on his stomach. Harry reaches over for a bottle of lube that is stuffed in his bedside drawers, slicks it over his fingers and his dick, and starts with one finger in Louis’ hole. He finds his prostrate in no time at all, fucks him with that one finger until he lets room for one more, then another. He lets go of Louis’ dick, lets the older man come right over the sheets, all over his stomach, breathing Harry’s name like it is his mantra. Harry pulls his fingers out of Louis, licking each of them one by one, sucking them into his own mouth, his eyes roll backwards for show. It’s only a mere few seconds of this until Louis’ growing hard again.

“Not done,” is what Harry says as he pops his fingers out of his mouth. “I’m going to fuck you so good, Lou. Going to be so gentle.”

Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, pulling himself close to Harry’s lap. He lifts himself up onto Harry’s dick, slowly riding it with a one-two rhythm, pleasure shooting through him every time Harry hits his prostrate. He watches Harry’s hooded eyes, feels the way Harry’s hands drag on his hips, slip down to sit on his buttocks, his fingernails digging.

“I don’t need you to be gentle,” Louis says.  His own words are slightly jumbled and incoherent.

Harry nods but manages to change their positions a fraction so that he is more in control. He lays Louis on the bed, pounding into him. The pleasure spreads through Louis like waves crashing on a beach, each stronger and more profound than the last.

And then Louis is practically screaming everything that’s Harry, his body arching when he comes and comes and comes. Harry slips out and collapses onto him, his body limp and his breathing disoriented. He moves off of Louis, arms wrapping around his waist to hug him safely to his chest.

It’s a few seconds later until Harry speaks; his voice is cracking around the words. “Happy birthday, Lou.”

And it’s the best birthday present Louis could ever have.

*****

Louis learns very quickly that Harry doesn’t like him being around Zayn too much. Although, it’s a little weird. It’s not like Harry doesn’t get along with Zayn, he does. Louis’ seen him talking to Zayn a lot of times since they first met, and it hasn’t exactly changed since Louis and Harry have got together. But there’s something else there. Louis would be laughing at something Zayn might have said, and Zayn might be a little too friendly, and Harry would just  _glare_ as if the two of them are conspiring against him.

Harry doesn’t know Louis used to be in a relationship with Zayn. So that doesn’t explain his behaviour..

Louis doesn’t really want his boyfriend to know about his past relationships, or at least not that one. That one has left a slight scar on his heart that will never fade. Louis does not want to address it.

It’s not too long, though, until Louis is certain that Harry knows. But it’s mostly Zayn who brings up the subject.

“Harry doesn’t like me being around you, does he?” Zayn says one afternoon. The two are huddled up in Zayn’s house, sharing a chair and chewing on some donuts that Louis had brought with him.

Louis shrugs; he’d rather leave this topic alone.

“Have you told him about us?” Zayn asks him; his elbow slightly digs into Louis’ chest.

Louis nearly chokes on his donut. He’s coughing and spluttering and his ears are ringing.

“Why would I need to do that?” he questions, pushing away the tray of donuts. His stomach is beginning to complain from eating too much.

Zayn raises an eyebrow at this. “I just thought you had. He kind of looks like the jealous type.”

Louis isn’t in love with Zayn any more, that’s one thing that he’s a hundred percent sure of. He used to be, of course he did, but things have changed. Those sorts of emotions are reserved for Harry.

“He doesn’t need to be jealous,” Louis mutters.

*****

“HAPPY NEW YEAR, MOTHERFUCKER.”

Niall snorts at him, pinching his sides. “You’re too early again, Lou. It’s another few minutes.”

Louis pouts but goes back to dancing, goes back to swinging himself around and around to the music. He feels so light as if he’s about to float off of his feet right there and go swimming in the air. And wouldn’t that just be fun? Wouldn’t it just be wonderful?

So Louis might be drunk. So.

He’s at a New Year’s Party of some friend of Harry’s. He can’t remember the guy’s name, but he throws a sick party. And there are so many drinks, there’s an unlimited supply.

Louis dances his way over to fetch a can of beer. He cracks the can open, downing it quickly before throwing it to the side.

“Someone’s a little drunk.”

Louis looks over his shoulder at Zayn. He couldn’t quite remember when Zayn arrived but he’s not with Perrie. In fact, he’s by himself, standing there watching him. Louis grins wide at him and goes for a hug. The movement makes everything blur around him, the people turning into fractures of multicolour. He finally gets hold of Zayn, wrapping his arms right around his friend. Zayn pats him lovingly on the back.

“I’m not drunk. ‘M just happy.” And he is, really, his mind is as clear as it has ever been. There’s nothing weighing him down at all.

Zayn chuckles and shoves him aside gently. By doing this Louis nearly goes staggering into someone behind him; Zayn catches him just in time.

The last time Louis was this close to Zayn was during a night that Louis has pushed to the back of his mind. It’s a place where everything he doesn’t want to deal with is buried deep.

Zayn’s hand is gripping around his wrist and Louis’ so  _close_  to him, his nose is brushing Zayn’s.

And they might kiss. Maybe. And Louis thinks that would be okay. Just a friendly peck and nothing else. Zayn’s eyes seemed to have bugged out of his sockets; in fact, this whole situation is downright hilarious.

Or that’s what Louis wants to think. It’s what he’s trying to convince himself.

“Lou?” There’s another hand resting on his bicep. “What are you doing?”

Louis breaks away from all the memories tied to him like chains. The nights spent crying over Zayn, but going back to him anyway. The nights agreeing to sleep with him just to be with him, because that’s what Zayn wants and if Zayn wants it, Louis wants it too.

Louis catapults backwards so fast he almost throws up.

“I didn’t,” he stutters, “I’m not…”  _Not what? In love with Zayn? In love with Harry?_

Louis’ mind is so muddled up; he can’t distinguish between left and right. How is he supposed to know what his heart feels?

Louis doesn’t need to say anything else. Harry’s leading him away from the crowd of people. He’s pressing him up against a wall, fingers digging into his skin hard, he’s sure to leave marks.

“Tell me what’s going on here, Louis,” he orders. He moves Louis’ arms to either side of his head, making it impossible for the older man to escape. But Louis doesn’t want to, anyway. Why would he want to escape from his Harry?

There’s nothing to tell, really. Harry’s eyes are begging him to say something. Louis wishes he hadn’t finished that beer so quickly.

“Nothing,” Louis asserts, “Nothing was…”

Harry slams him further back into the wall. “I can tell you’re lying to me.”

Louis stops for a second. He stops thinking. Stops trying to move away from Harry altogether. He meets Harry’s gaze and lets out one shaky breath.

“I…” He bites his lip; he has no idea  _where_ to start. “Zayn and I used to be together. Before I met you. Way before that, actually. But there’s nothing between us now though.”

This is the truth, maybe he doesn’t mention how torn up he had been when Zayn had told him that whatever they had had to stop. He can’t tell Harry everything; he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

Harry’s furrowing his eyebrows at him. “Do you still love him?”

Louis’ jaw slacks at that in surprise. He almost laughs at the accusation. “What? Are you serious?”

“Of course I am.” Harry’s hands drag along Louis’ palms; he brings Louis’ arms down to his sides. “Just give me an answer, Lou. Please.”

 _Isn’t it obvious?_ Louis’ sure he’s made it clear a million times what he thinks. If he were still in love with Zayn he wouldn’t be with Harry. It would be unfair to Harry. Yes, maybe he still feels sick whenever he thinks of his relationship with Zayn, but that’s normal. He’s supposed to feel that way.

Louis shifts his hands to Harry’s chest, scrunching up the material in the bawls of his hands. He suddenly brings Harry towards him, gritting his teeth. “Do you seriously need an answer to that?”

Harry pushes off, but Louis can see the want in his eyes. Louis would let him fuck him angrily against this wall if he wanted. He’d be totally up for that.

However, Harry doesn’t initiate anything of the sort. He shakes his head, running his hands through his hair, and walks away.

For a short while, Louis stands there wondering why Harry had to go. His head is beginning to pound all of a sudden and the bass of the music is louder than thunder.

He hears fireworks go off in the distance and cheers from inside the house, celebrating the start of the New Year. This time, Louis doesn’t say anything.

*****

“He’s actually pissed at me. But I can’t exactly remember what I did to begin with.”

Louis has been on the telephone to his mum for about an hour. He’s planning on never hanging up on her, she is like his rock.

Jay’s voice is reassuring on the other line.  _“Honey, you need to talk to him.”_

Louis sighs, running a hand down his face. “Believe me, I’ve tried! He’s purposefully decided to move in with Liam for a while to avoid me.”

_“Then show him what you really feel. You said your argument started because he was unsure what you felt for him. Demonstrate your love, Louis. Call me back after you’ve done so.”_

“Okay, mum. But what exactly do you suppose I do because he’s really obstinate and I don’t think I’m going to get him alone for more than two seconds because…” Louis holds the phone closer to his ear. “Have you hung up on me?”

There’s a silent ringing on the other end of the line. Louis frowns.

*****

Louis has an excellent plan. It is truly magnificent.

Actually, it’s not. He’s almost certain that it’s going to fail miserably and leave him embarrassed and unsuccessful. But there’s nothing else he can do but try.

He might be playing by Harry’s rules here, and he’s glad that he’s been around Harry enough to have his morals about stealing be thrown out the window.

And it’s not stealing (god he sounds like Harry) he will give it back as soon as Harry enters the room looking for him and kisses him for his efforts. At least, that’s what he hopes will happen.

Louis has a camera, Harry’s guitar, and the keys to the Music Tech department recording booths. He’s not supposed to have these keys; he might have nicked them off of one of the teachers. He’s not going to go into detail about how that happened. It’s something that he’d rather not repeat.

So he’s attaching the camera to the computer and to the school’s system. At some point he’s sure to fuck everything up but his optimism is surprisingly at an all time high. Nothing can go wrong. Well, touch wood.

The system is all set up and all Louis has to do is click play. The video will be broadcasted to every television screen (or projector) in the school. This means all students and teachers will see this broadcast. Louis is more nervous than he’s ever been.

But, well, here goes.

He clicks play waiting for the recording sign to switch on.

“Well, hello fellow students of St. Charles. It’s Louis Tomlinson here, otherwise known as Mr. Tomlinson, and I have an announcement to make. You better  _all_  listen.”

His voice is shaking he can tell, how is he supposed to succeed in this ridiculous feat if he can’t properly speak? His hands are shaking as he picks up Harry’s acoustic guitar. The object feels foreign in his hands, at one point, he nearly drops it.

Louis’ hands rest on a C chord, ready to play.

“Recently I taught a certain teacher how to act. He taught me how to play an instrument. It might not have been this guitar, but I’m not dragging in a piano into this booth. So,” he chuckles nervously, his right hand absently strumming. “This is basically for him. I’m so sorry for being a twat and not making my feelings clear to you. But yeah. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you even despite the fact that you have kleptomaniac tendencies. Actually, that’s probably one of the reasons why I care about you so much.”

 _Oops,_ he thinks,  _maybe I wasn’t supposed to say that._

“God, this is embarrassing.”  _ha-ha._ “I might as well get on with it.”

Louis knows this is going to sound awful in comparison to when Harry plays. But he’s trying. He’s watched Harry enough to understand the basics. He’s getting the hang of it going from a C chord to a G chord quicker than he thinks possible. He’s starting to play something that sounds like a tune, and it’s really not that awful. It’s good enough. Maybe it expresses how much he wants Harry to run towards him.

The seconds pass by and no one enters the booth.

“Harry,” his voice is raised, “If you don’t come here right now I’ll expose everything I know about you. And I mean everything.”

He was definitely not supposed to say that.

Louis doesn’t want to feel disheartened if Harry doesn’t walk through those doors. He’ll get over it, but he’ll hurt for a while.

Personally, Louis would like to stop hurting.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Louis strikes down on the strings with a little too much strength. It brings out a bit of a nasty sound.

He twists his head around to spot Harry. His boy is breathing heavily, his eyes furrowed as he stares from Louis to the camera and to his guitar. Harry stomps up towards him, snatching it from him.

“Who said you could take that?” Harry demands, he doesn’t seem angry though. He’s blushing.

“I borrowed it,” Louis says and it’s a repetition of every time Harry’s tried to justify himself.

Harry raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, did you? Thought it would be funny to do this?” His eyes drift to the camera, it’s still recording.

“Turn it off,” Harry whispers beneath his breath, gesturing to his camera.

Louis crosses his arms to his chest; he swings his legs in his chair a little, hitting Harry teasingly. “And why should I do that?”

Harry covers the camera with his hand, his voice is still hushed. “Because when it’s off I’m going to make love to you.”

Louis feels his heart swell at this. ‘Make love’ is different to ‘fucking’. Louis’ never really made the distinction before in any of his relationships, but the word seems right with Harry. There would be no other way to describe it.

But Louis is so happy. He was so scared he would lose Harry. He didn’t want to be in pain ever again.

Louis nods ecstatically, rushing over to the camera to switch it off. His hands are shaking as he searches for the off button, his vision beginning to blur. Harry sighs from behind him, his arms encasing Louis as he reaches over and switches the camera off. A second later, he spins Louis around, grabbing the back of his head and bringing him closer towards him.

A kiss or so later and Harry is holding his hand tight. “You’re in love with me?” He’s grinning wildly.

Louis smiles. “Of course I am.”

Harry licks his lips at him. “Even though I’m a Klepto?”

“I’ve allowed you to steal my heart, haven’t I?”

And it’s so cheesy and so cliché. But Louis doesn’t care one bit.

*****

The rest of the day he’s being followed by many teenagers asking for information on his relationship with Harry. Louis is trying to contain his irritation.

“So, when did you get together?” A Year 10 asks eagerly, Louis is trying to ignore these kids. They won’t leave him alone.

“That’s not really any of your business,” he snipes. The kids watch him go disappointed. Louis knows they’ll get over it.

He’s ready to expect a lot of questions from now on. As well as some trouble from his colleagues.

“Hey!” A kid shouts out of an art classroom. “How was making love to Mr. Styles, Mr. Tomlinson?”

Louis nearly trips over his feet at that.

*****

 **[17:07PM] [Harry Styles]**  to  **[Louis Tomlinson]** : i need you.

 **[17:09PM] [Louis Tomlinson]**  to  **[Harry Styles]** : with what?? I’m busy!

 **[17:12PM] [Harry Styles]** to  **[Louis Tomlinson]** : i have an urge to take this flower basket. you need to help me take it.

Louis smirks at the message. He shakes his head, typing back as quick as he can.

 **[17:13PM] [Louis Tomlinson]** to  **[Harry Styles]** : i’ll be right there.

**Author's Note:**

> comment/kudos/bookmark!  
> thank you :)


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